#and I'm having a grand time

[the-four-hoursemen]

Neil Gaiman will always be among my favorite artists of all time for so many reasons and on so many levels

_Death

Another day, another delightful Neil Gaiman story.

----------------

EDIT: Where are my manners. The book in question is Once Upon A Tome: The Misadventures of a Rare Bookseller

linktr.ee/oliverdarkshire

[fevekko]

🏹🐦💘 happy holidays from your favorite super-heroes!! 💘

(i am not late today is the 25th everyone please shh)

fanart inspired from @kitsuneisi and @xmaruu11 's DDVAU! my brain is so rotten with these two silly gooses...

[commandertartarsmoocher]

Who is ready for The Grand Festival ?

Hey, wait a minute... who invited this guy?

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts 3 - Toy Box

[vegaly-art]

Gay people beloveds Also tried out a new way to paint foliage and I hope it turned out alright.

[intheconfessiondial]

12 Months of 12 - December

[fumifooms]

Dunmeshi memes pt 3

Parts : 1 - 2 - (3) - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 Specials: Canaries - harsh - valentines

[secretariatess]

I've said it before and I'll say it again.

I think it's a dang shame that we'll put celebration of the day the church split over the day the church was formed.

It's not that I think what the Catholic Church was doing at the time that instigated the Reformation was good or in no need of correction, but rather that God's church was split and created factions upon factions where we now squabble with each other. We went from a united church to one with many denominations that fight with each other about which ones are the "true" ones, or which denominations are "wrong."

Don't get me wrong, I like being Nazarene. I like what the Nazarene church offers, and I agree with Nazarene theology. And it wouldn't be possible without the Reformation. I don't agree with Catholic theology. I think there are many things where they are off base. But there are still those in the Catholic church who are Christian, and I'm not going to write them off because of the Protestant/Catholic chasm.

The Reformation was necessary. I'm not sure it was necessary to celebrate. The Church split. It split. The Church, where Jesus said that the world would know us by the love we have for each other, split.

To put it another way: God's family split. How is that not heartbreaking? I am under no delusion that everyone was working in harmony previously, but still . . . .

When Martin Luther nailed the 95 theses up, his goal was not to split the church. It was to correct the church. But he had lobbed a hand grenade at a festering rot, gone too far deep to accept correction and instead desired to keep its corruption.

There's a lesson in the Reformation. There was good in the Reformation. I do believe God worked in the Reformation. But I feel like the lesson and warning of the Reformation is lost when we celebrate "no longer being Catholic!"

The Reformation should be sobering.

And if we are going to celebrate a formation of the church, why are we putting so much stock on the Reformation, and ignoring the Pentecost, where God came down again?

What is the purpose in celebrating the Reformation, and what is the excuse in forgetting Pentecost?

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

Hoping for a driver you dislike to be pushed into a barrier by his competitor because he dared to qualify ahead of him, when in the same freaking session there was a 50G crash that sent a driver to the medical centre is fucking despicable.

Also, FYI, that crash is automatically the fourth most significant crash (in terms of G force impact) in the last five years. It follows Max's 51G impact in Silverstone 2021, Zhou's crash in Silverstone the following year, and Romain Grosjean's crash in Bahrain 2020. I watched all of them in real time, it's a fucking miracle they made it out OK. Remember that the miracles don't always happen, and you don't want to be watching when the nightmare becomes not just a possibility but the reality.

I hope to God Franco is ok because I just saw photos of the car and fuck - I don't have the words.

I don't know how many times this has to be said before it kicks in. These are real people, not characters in a show or movie; their lives are in danger every time they get into an f1 car. That's the sad reality. Do you truly hate a driver so much that - if the worst were to happen - you'd feel nothing as it plays out before you?

[ehh-is-the-name]

You know when I said I'd make a Floory rug..?

So yeah, I did it.

This is your calling card to do the same. Make a rug, I triple-dog dare you. Don't know how?

Here's a breakdown of how I made The Floor:

Before fully getting into it, in that rb I said:

We could have so much mroe than what the shop offers- it could be glorious. I couldn't get tuft chin hair or flower power blush floor with $45 dollars at their store, but I could get it irl for the low low price of like a week-straight worth of work.

Ha... haha.... No. It took a lot longer than that. MUCH longer than that.

This is a little jitter lapse with the dates I worked on him. In each pic I spent around 2-3 hours working on him, except the last few in August. Those I spent like 3-5 hours on because I needed him to be finished before the semester started. My goal was to get him finished and sitting in my dorm, and I fucking did :)

= - - =

Starting from the top though, since I had the design after making the rb post linked, I decided on the size. I was watching the video showcasing him as a rug, and I gauged he was about a yard wide, so I based my measurements on that. I knew that I was going to needle punch him instead of latch hook him because I felt the punching would be faster. And well... I've done punch needling before this project so I figured it'd be faster than learning a new technique.

Here's what I mean, for a frame of reference.

Since I went the punching route, I knew he'd need a frame to be punched out on. To keep the fabric taut and all that jazz. Luckily for me I had a bunch of wood hanging around from an old bed's slots, so I made the frame out of that. Similarly, I had a bunch of fabric lying around.

Word of advice: DO NOT USE NORMAL FABRIC WITH A NORMAL PUNCH NEEDLE YOU WILL TEAR THAT SHIT UP. Learned that the hard way-

The fabric I used was NOWHERE near "loose" enough for a big punch needle. Loose in the sense that it has more holes in it. On the left is the fabric you're supposed to use when making a rug (Monk's Cloth), and on the right is the fabric I used (pic not of the exact cloth but close).

Notice that the holes on the right are a LOT smaller... I did not realise this mattered until I'd already primed the frame and drew him on with a sharpie.

Bask in his glory.

To give a breif on how I did this, I hooked my 'puter up to the TV with an HTMI, opened the image I had of him (it's a bit different than the of doodle in the rb b/c I wanted brighter colours), and literally held the wooden frame with the fabric on it up to my TV and traced it. I traced it from the inside first so that it would be mirrored on the side I would be punching on. If you draw the design you want to punch on the side you're punching on please mirror the image first.

Forgot to say, yes I had a staple gun too, so that didn't add into the price of making this Floory rug.

After this point, it was pretty smooth sailing, sorta... It would've been if I'd bought a thinner yarn for the main body. See, in this whole experiment, I was very dead set on keeping this project under $45 so I bought a large ball of cheap yarn. I tried to gauge how much I would need with the needle height (about 3/4 inch I used), but I got scared and just wound up buying this giant green ball that I needed to de-ply to work with properly. You could kinda see it in the jitter-lapse below, but yeah.

Before punching with this Red Heart size 4 yarn, I had to separate 1 of the ply FOR THE ENTIRE RUG. I had to pull out a substantial amount from the big skein, de-ply it, roll it back into a ball, then needle punch with it.

And why did I have to do this? BECAUSE I WAS USING THE WRONG FABRIC AND NEEDLE PUNCH FOR MAKING A WHOLE ASS RUG!!

I didn't know that the needle punch needle I had was an embroidery one, NOT a normal needle punch needle. Notice that it's small, and embroidery floss is the thing going through the hole and NOT size 4 yarn. And for the right, notice that it's also kinda small but the needle itself is a lot thicker, the channel that the yarn is going through is wider than the yarn itself- and that it's YARN AND NOT EMBROIDERY FLOSS.

Needless to say, it was aggravating and made the process take a lot longer than it should've. It wasn't impossible, I mean, you see him finished above and below, but it made it WAY more tedious, since a the thicker yard, even after being de-ply'd, still got stuck in the needle punch needle. After wresling with that off and on for... what about 4 months give or take, it was on to gluing and backing.

Going on the record to say that Tuft the World, Sam Made That, Shop Last., AJ MAKES, and BrokenBlvds' thread were the backbone of my glue searching, and rug-making experience. If you genuinely want to make a tuff rug (hand-punched or otherwise) their guides are so helpful <3

But for real, finding the right glue was a lot harder than anticipated. Many people said to use Roberts 3095 adhesive for rugs along with another glue, but I didn't have the funds for that, nor was planning to buy a whole gallon of rug glue I'd only for 1 project. I took up BrokenBlvds thread as my glue of choice, even though they were asking for something better. So far (about 3 months of use and a couple cleanings) the Roberts 6700 glue is holding up fine. The thing that isn't, is the yarn. After one vacuuming, fuzzies have been obscuring his eyes and junk. It's not bad, or even that noticeable, but I do miss his original state. That's what I get for using cheap yarn. I still love him to death tho.

Side tangent aside, I also used the 6700 because it has less of an odour, and I planned on bringing him to my dorm right when he was dry. While that was drying outside, I worked on the backing. The OG Floory rug had a nonslip backing attached (if I remember correctly), but mine does not! In similar fashion to the fabric of the rug itself, I also used left over fabric as his backing. For structure, I used some of my father's old uniform pants, and to make it more like dirt, I used an old bed sheet.

I stitched them together in a quilt-ish design so that the layers would be attached throughout the rug. That was a rush, but when I finished it I went out back and stuck it on there with a bit more Roberts 6700. When it was cured enough to come inside (3 days after gluing) I worked on the nonslip portion.

Had a rectangle of rug grip mat stuff, stuck some pins around the edges of Floory, traced the pins then cut it out. It's a little hard to see but looking up top, you can see a few of the pins sticking out around his edge.

After getting that, I released him from the frame, "pinked" his edges, and whip-stitched the edge shut.

That hurt my thumb SO FUCKIN BAD- Had to have pliers next to me for most of the whip-stitching, because it was so hard to get through the glue with a blunt needle. I used a blunt needle 'cause it was the only needle I had that could hold the yarn, and to keep in the spirit of the experiment... No way I was buying a needle when I had a needle that could technically work.

Now, in the name of the whole experiment, let me do a breakdown of the things I bought verse used:

Items Bought for project:

Green Red Heart Yarn - $15

Roberts 6700 Carpet Adhesive - $9

Wrong sized punch needle - $3

Total spent on Floory rug: $27

Items used in general:

9 different colours of yarn

About 1.5 yards of polyester/cotton blend fabric

1/2 of a flat sheet from a bedsheet set

1 pair of uniform pants

1 embroidery needle punch needle

4 (roughly) yard-long wood slots from a bed

Nails and screws (and the tools for those)

1 Staple gun & about 70 staples (I fucked up a lot of them & restapled)

A sewing machine

Pinking shears

Tapestry needles

etc...

Total if I had to buy all that: More than $45!

I put the lists side by side to say that I know saying "Oh just make it yourself" is easier said than done. If I didn't have all the shit I did, I would've just bought him myself like any sane person would. But no, I had the will and the materials, and I wanted The Floor in my dorm. And now here he is, along with my crazy ass Jhariah x hfjone bag...

That's for a different post- but forgive me, it's the most recent photo I have of him.

All and all, I had a good time working on him! It was very therapeutic to hunch on the floor of my living room and stab fabric a gazillion times to make The Floor from Inanimate Insanity. It drove me a bit inanimate insane, but honestly, I wake up every morning and see his face and it makes things better. So in reality, I guess you could say it was the friends I made along the way- thanks for watch

[the-spine-eater]

Hey, so, how the FUCK do some of y'all manage to listen to malevolent???

[fisheito]

My favourite fantasy lately is Kuya kidnapping Eiden and bringing him to a house in the woods to punish him for endangering himself during some adventure. Kuya keeps Eiden in bondage and constantly on edge, teasing and denying him. And Eiden just takes it without asking to be let out, allowing Kuya to vent his fear and frustration, because he's nice like that.

But, at some point, even the strongest little soldiers break, and just when Eiden is about to shatter from all the stress and Kuya's oppressive anxiety, Quincy comes for the rescue. He's the only one who managed to find that little wooden shack in the middle of nowhere (you know, because Kuya's allowed him to), and he comes in and persuades Kuya to relent.

Kuya hasn't even given Eiden any dick in all the (three? four?) days they've been at it, so serious he was about the discipline aspect!

Eiden cries when Kuya finally fucks him, and Quincy makes him spill

this just reminds me of Billowing Wildfire Kuya R2 where eiden saID sO HImself

i would not be surprised if kuya went full speed into an evil edging hostage situation because he doesn't know how to process eiden's mortality

[mozzaremi]

[dutiful-wildcraft]

Lies and Alibis

Part 2, Previous, Next

Nikolai/Plus Size F!OC

This one's a bit longer! Nothing to scary, but their is some violence. Again this is a bit silly and very self indulgent, please enjoy!!!

banner by @/une-femme-de-lettres

Life or death situations really do sober you up, which is really handy considering very big men with very big guns were now looking for her. She tries not to tremble too badly as she scans the bathroom for something, anything really to help her.

Best case scenario, she escapes with all her limbs intact. Preferably. 

Worst case scenario, they bust in and simply kill her then, a quick bullet to the dome. There were certainly more worse scenarios…but there was no time to line all those details out. She shudders. 

Think think think.

Locking the door would only make her presence inside more obvious. 

Find a weapon? She's seen broads in movies use the ceramic back of the toilet as pretty solid weapon before, she knows if she clocks someone just right it would at least knock them out. 

She peers into the stall, and of course there isn't one. Stupid automatic flusher. 

She turns again, eyes the small windows lining the far wall and nearly curses. She couldn't even fit her tits through the opening let alone the rest of her. Who the fuck even makes a window like that?

She can hear more yelling outside, and her heart pounds. She wasn't going to make it out. Not without someone seeing her.

She’s desperate, mind racing as a very hairbrained thought occurs to her.

If she was going to die cartoonishly, her fat ass wasn't going to be shot to swiss cheese hanging out of window she most certainly was going to get stuck in. Instead she works the glass pane open, pushing it as far as it could go before peeling off her heels and tossing them haphazardly onto the floor below the opening. 

With the clock ticking she scampers on bare feet into the handicap stall, leaving the door open a crack and climbing onto the toilet in the far corner. She was thankful that nicer bathrooms didn't have a crack a mile wide between the frames. She hunkers a bit, feet on the bowl with her ass resting against the wall to brace her. 

This was stupid, really.  Beyond stupid, suicidal even. But her mama did not raise a quitter. 

The door opens and her heart catches in her throat. She holds her breath as a pair of footsteps echo against the pearly tile. One set coming closer as the other kicks open the other closed stalls ahead of her. Oh god. She was going to die like this. On a toilet, Elvis style. She almost starts to cry, clutching her hands over her mouth to stifle her trembling breaths.

I escaped, I escaped. 

A voice rings out in the quiet, disbelieved barking.

“Blyat, Sbezhal!!”

What.

More cursing. A frantic phone call, and hurried steps out of the bathroom follow.

She waits. That…that seriously worked.

Holy shit. That worked.

She climbs down on shakey legs and puts an ear to the door, listening carefully for any more noise. The commotion must have cleared the place, and she cracks the door into the dead quiet. She'd planned to bolt, hit the door and run for her fucking life, but she thinks of her knight in glittering gold jewelry.

She doesn't know why now out of all times she feels guilty for a random russian mobster. He couldn't have been too much better than these other men, and for all she knows if it was his business she was poking into he would have had her murked too.

He helped you.

For reasons unknown, or perhaps even nefarious, but she didn't know that, just like he didn't know having her on his arm would get him a gun stock to the face.

Her eyes flicker between the door to her escape and the long hallway they'd taken him, and she sighs, long and ill suffering. 

-

This is beyond stupid, she grouses inwardly, crawling her way underneath another set of hallway length windows in an effort to not get her head blown off by the rifle toting jarhead she'd seen walking the perimeter. 

She didn't have much besides “Grab Nikolai and Leave”. The details around even that fuzzy, not to mention the man may or may not be dead…or at minimum very angry with her. She pauses dead for a second, a little spinning wheeling flashing in her mind's eye as she slowly works that problem out.

…maybe he won't be so mad if she helps him. He could at least get them out of there and hunt her another day. 

Too late to go back now. 

From what they could tell they were searching the woods for her. What remnants of the dinner party left long gone in the aftermath, with just a few men and her knight left. 

She continues following the trail of blood and black skid marks from well polished shoes down fancy tiled corridors. Pausing around the corner as the sound of wet thuds and pained grunts hit her ears, followed by more seething russian.

Words so snarled she can barely understand. Something about her, betrayal, stupidity. Their captive rasps. Feigning ignorance.

No, not feigning, telling the truth. As the familiar voice definitely belonged to Nikolai, a light edge to it despite his predicament. Her heart pangs with guilt. This was definitely her fault.

She's fully prepared to play the waiting game, find a place to hide until at least one of the guards leaves the room. That is until she hears the light tap of a shoe on tile far too late, turning just in time to catch the pistol careening with her face.

-

Fucking, ow. 

Her head bounces off the marble and she sees stars, body laying limply on the floor as she attempts to reboot.

He'd definitely busted her head open, hopefully she wouldn't need stitches, but probably considering she could already feel the blood slipping into her hairline. 

And as she takes stock of herself, she realizes that he definitely thinks he's knocked her out, judging by the way he bitches, grumbling about her weight before unceremoniously grabbing her ankle and dragging her along.

She bites her tongue, forces herself to fall limp despite the radiating pain in her skull. Cracking like lightning as her head thunks between the grout. 

Eventually she's stopped, her thick leg flung hatefully to the floor as a door slams behind her. She keeps still. Listening. There was another, ragged labored breaths. She dares to crack her eye just a smidgen, taking in the blurry visage that was Nikolai, his limp black locks hiding his face from her view.

Okay. Target located. She hadn't necessarily planned playing possum to get there but hey, a win is a win. 

Win number two, a knocked out fat girl was apparently not threatening enough to justify security. Her arms and legs left splayed lifelessly beside her and undisturbed.

The door clicks again. Followed by heavy footsteps.

New problem.

She cracks her eye again, watching the guard stalk back and forth through the blurred slit of her eyelids. His back, thankfully toward her. 

He's yapping again, yanking Nikolai back by the hair to sneer. Monologuing as power hungry idiots are wont to do.

Her eyes scan the room fully now. She can make this work. He's bigger than her but she's got enough ass to swing hard if she needs to. Enough pressure in the right place can knock anyone out. Jaw, temple, base of skull, she lists. 

Her eyes search, lamp, chair, paperweight, all doable but loud….her eyes fall just above her. Pretty velvet curtains tied back neatly with thick, golden tasseled chord. Bingo.

Keeping her eyes glued to her chatty assailant she reaches upward, fingers barely grasping at the silky strands before tugging it down the length of the curtain, catching it swiftly before it could thunk against the floor. 

She'd needed to be quick for her next trick. She eases herself up. Wrapping the chord around both palms, steeling herself for what could very well be the worst decision she's ever made. Cut off blood supply, crush his windpipe. She pictures the anatomy in her head, and before she can bitch out she lunges, throwing the chord around his throat and yanking.

There's a choked gasp as she twists, turning her body 180 and pulling down sharply, attempting to use her own weight to assist in strangling the man. He thrashes against her back, nearly toppling them both over.  She's too short, his legs still able to scrabble against the ground.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She twists again, maneuvering her arms to twist the makeshift garrote around his throat into more of a noose. They both stumble in the struggle, falling to the floor in a heap. 

Absolutely fucking not.

She scrambles, keeping the chord pulled taut around the guards neck as she kicks her feett out, planting them both against the man's shoulders and yanking with all her might. Keeping her legs stiff and holding onto the chord for dear life, palms straining as she simultaneously pushes and pulls.

He really flails now, legs kicking and eyes bulging. Dull nails drawing blood against her calves and ankles where he fights to claw her off. She'd be impressed with his tenacity had she not been fearing for her own life. How fucking long did it take to strangle someone?

“Pull harder, zaychonok” a voice rasps over the gurgling and choking in the room. Nikolai.

And she does, grunting with the effort as she pushes with her knees, keeping the chord pulled tight against her chest, whole body beginning to tremble with the effort. 

“pull, keep pulling, more, more”

The man at her feet tries to howl, frothing and flailing desperately before there is a sickening pop. His body falling limp and silent. She sags, panting harshly, letting her cheek rest against the cool tile of the floor. Her hands throbbed, burned and bloodied from the rope, but she was alive, blessedly alive.

Which could not be said for the guard. 

She shoots up, flinging the chord viciously from her hands and stares at him. He's dead alright, head cranked at an unnatural angle, dead eyes bulging and painted red from broken vessels. His neck painted in varying shades of red and purple. 

It makes her stomach churn. 

She stares at the body, her memory carving his corpse into the inside of her skull. It’s not that she hadn't seen a dead body before, she's seen plenty. She's just…never been the direct result of a dead body. The words Do No Harm, echoes in her brain. 

“Zaya”

She flinches, eyes bouncing to Nikolai who watches her carefully.  “Fetch me his knife” he instructs, and his voice is soft, surprisingly gentle given the situation. She follows, moving on autopilot to flip the thug over and snag the knife from his belt. 

She stumbles toward him. Clumsy like a newborn foal as she cuts the zip ties from his wrists with trembling fingers. Vehemently ignoring looking at the dead man on the floor. 

Nikolai makes a little relieved sound, rubbing his aching wrists as she circles back around. He carefully tugs the knife from her hands, never taking his eyes off of her as he slides it against his belt.

“Good job” he murmurs, hooking a hand a bit to roughly against her shoulder. Shaking her from her thoughts again. The poor man looks rough, they both do. Thankfully it’s something she thinks a few stitches and a bath couldn't fix. But something else occurs to her.

“You speak english.” she deadpans, staring at him with exhausted eyes, and this mad bastard has the gall to let out a small wet laugh.

“Very observant” he chuckles, patting her shoulder moving across the room on stiff legs. He plucks a handgun from the desk drawer and checks the magazine. Satisfied , he slides it into his belt, bending again to pick up the guard’s fallen handgun making the same check. He eyes her with a raised brow.

“Can I trust you with this?”

She swallows hard, nods. It’s been a while, but she knows how to use it. 

He approaches, quickly going over the safety, how to clear it, before pushing it into her hand. His warm palm slides over the metal, gripping her wrist securely. He folds his chin to his chest, looking into her eyes. Holding her attention. 

“Stay close to me, keep your hand off the trigger, we will survive.”

“Da” she repeats, preening just a bit as he smiles at her.

[chronologiical]

waver at any moment of his lord's life: just end me

[vaguely-concerned]

I just *clenches fist with tears in my eyes* love the grand necropolis so much