#and if it's on their dashboard and they don't like it

[sturniolobliss]

⌗ . . . ❛ 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ❜ matthew sturniolo.

warnings ◞ ˚˖ ࣪ emotional tension, very light angst, fluff, suggestive backstory, awkward vulnerability . . . etc.

note ◞ ˚˖ ࣪ bow divider by @/bernardsbendystraws · · ୨୧

read part one here! & read part two here!

it's been three days.

three days since matt left your bed in the middle of the night. three days since he pulled his hoodie over his head, eyes down, mouth silent, and slipped out the front door before either of you had the guts to say something real.

you haven't heard much since. a few likes on your story. one one-word reply to something stupid in the groupchat. and then nothing.

it's driving you insane.

because you can't stop thinking about the way he looked last time. hair messy, lip caught between his teeth, sitting on your lap like he belonged there. your name falling off his tongue with that ruined kind of whisper he never uses around anyone else. the kind of quiet that made you feel like the only person in the world who knew this version of him.

and now he's pretending like none of it happened. like you haven't been dragging each other through this over and over, sneaking touches and favoring silence until it all explodes into one of you moaning the other's name in the dark.

and you're over it.

so you call him.

once. no answer.

twice. no answer.

third time, he picks up.

"…hey."

his voice is soft. guilty. like he knows exactly why you're calling and he already hates himself for not answering sooner.

"matt."

a pause.

"i know."

"you don't know anything," you reply. "but we need to talk."

he sighs, quiet and unsure. "can't we jus'… not?"

you let the silence hang. you can practically hear him chewing on his lip through the phone.

"seriously," he adds, voice strained. "i've jus' been tired. i don't wan'—make it a thing."

"it is a thing."

"not if we don't talk about it."

"matt."

his breath cracks a little when you say his name this time. you don't miss it.

"in person," you say. "i'm not doing this over the phone."

"i don't—i don't know, maybe tomorrow—"

"no."

"you're bein' so fucking pushy right now—"

"and you're being a coward."

that shuts him up.

then, after a beat: "…can't believe that actually made me wan' see you."

you smile into the receiver, tired but relieved. "i'll be there in ten."

he slides into the passenger seat in one smooth movement, but the second the door shuts, the air goes still.

he doesn't look at you. just leans his head against the window, hoodie sleeves pulled down over his hands, one leg bouncing.

you grip the wheel. neither of you say anything for a second.

"hey," you finally offer.

he glances at you, then away again. "hey."

you start driving.

somewhere quiet. nowhere in particular. the city stretches and fades behind you as you pull off the main road, end up near the edge of some residential street with trees lining the sidewalks. it's dim and empty and still. the perfect kind of place for a conversation you've both been avoiding for far too long.

you shift into park and kill the engine.

matt exhales slowly, eyes fixed on the dashboard.

you lean back against the seat. "so."

he groans softly, dragging a hand down his face. "don't start with 'so'."

you ignore him. "how long are we gonna pretend this isn't happening?"

his jaw clenches. he shifts in the seat, pulls his sleeves down further. "i don't know what y'wan' me to say."

"i want you to be honest."

he scoffs, bitter and quiet. "y'really think honesty's gonna help us right now?"

you turn to look at him. "i think not talking about it is fucking everything up."

"we're not dating," he mutters, voice clipped. "y'don't owe me anything. i don't owe you anything. it's jus'—"

"you're not even convincing yourself when you say that."

"i know."

his voice cracks on the last word.

you soften a little. "matt."

he squeezes his eyes shut, head tilting back against the seat.

"every time we do this," he says, " i think it'll stop mattering after. like it'll jus' go away. like i'll wake up the next day and pretend you didn't have your hands in my hair and your mouth on my neck and your fingers in my mouth and—"

he stops himself.

you're silent, heart pounding.

"but it never goes away," he finishes, quietly. "it jus' sticks. and then i get stuck. and i don't know how to act around you, and i feel like an idiot."

you breathe out. "you're not an idiot."

he finally looks at you. really looks. his eyes are glassy in the low light. there's something raw in his face you've never seen in full until now.

"y'think i like bein' like that with you?" he asks, barely above a whisper. "y'think i like the way i let you do that to me?"

you flinch. but then he adds:

"because i do. i fuckin' love it. and it scares the shit out of me."

your stomach twists.

"i don't know how to be normal after that," he continues. "i don't know how to sit on your couch and watch a movie like i wasn't beggin' you to touch me seventy-two hours ago."

you stare at him, completely still.

his voice cracks again. "and i hate that i wan' you to do it again."

you reach for him, slow and gentle, fingers brushing his wrist. he lets you hold it.

"matt," you say softly. "you don’t have to pretend with me."

he blinks hard. "but what are we?"

you open your mouth. pause. "i don't know."

"do y'even like me?" he asks. "or is this jus'—some power thing?"

you look him straight in the eyes. "of course i like you."

his breath stutters.

"i like the way you laugh at my dumb jokes. i like how soft you get when it’s late and we're alone. i like that you trust me enough to be like that with me."

he looks like he might break.

you add, quieter, "and i like when you let me take care of you. not just the sex—i mean you."

he swallows. his voice is so small when he speaks again. "so what now?"

you nod toward the console. "now we get food."

he snorts before he can stop himself.

"what?" you grin.

"that's your solution?"

"well, yeah. we just ruined each other emotionally, we deserve fries."

he exhales a laugh. "you're an idiot."

"and you're not?"

he gives you a look, still watery-eyed, but something about his posture is lighter now. more like himself.

you drive to five guys.

he sings under his breath while you wait for your food. something off the aux. when your hands brush reaching for the same drink carrier, he doesn't pull away.

you look at him, smiling. "you wanna stay over?"

he hesitates. "will it be… weird?"

"not unless you make it weird."

he bites the inside of his cheek.

"then yeah. i'll stay."

you wake up with him curled into your chest. hoodie half-off, hair flattened on one side, face buried under your jaw like he's been holding on to you all night.

he doesn't say anything when he stirs. doesn't pull away. he just shifts a little, tighter against you, and sighs like it's the first time in days he's let himself relax.

your fingers graze the back of his neck. his arms wrap around your waist.

"hey," you whisper.

he hums sleepily.

"you okay?"

his voice is muffled. "yeah."

you wait. he nuzzles into you.

"…thank you," he adds after a moment. "for… not freakin' out."

you kiss the top of his head.

"for the record," you murmur, "i really like you like this."

he breathes out a laugh.

"i know."

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ : @sturniolo-szn2 / @mattscoquette / @sturnsflirt / @tezzzzzzzz / @chrepsi / @adorechris / @zenithsturniolo / @jacsismattswife / @sturnslutz / @devotedlyteenagemusic / @xoxbunni / @bbgirlmatt / @sturniolonationsblog / @sturnl0ve / @matts-wife / @breesturns / @chrissdreamgirl / @izzylovesmatt / @sturnssbarrett / @christophersgf / @whore4chris / @h3arts4nat . . . .ᐟ

comment or message to get added · · ୨୧

a/n ◞ ˚˖ ࣪ wrote this at four in the morning so if it's ass... just yeah

[punchspeedchunk]

It's really not just a browsing preference thing, this is basic internet courtesy 101. We used to do exactly the same thing in LiveJournal, and it's about posting etiquette.

That post truncating feature is dogshit, it has no nuance, it cuts off EVERYTHING, whether you want it or not, you can't tell, you gotta open up so many posts on your dash to decide if you're even interested in engaging with them or not.

If it allowed finer control, such as setting to only truncate certain post types, that would be different, but as it is, the feature is shit and I turned it off forever ago.

I have been jumping into the comment section of so many long fanfic posts to ask people to put them under read-mores, and I have seen so many replies of 'I didn't even realise this was a thing you can do/that it annoyed people if I don't do it'.

So I'm going to tell people WHY and HOW.

WHY?:

Because not everyone is actually interested in what you have written, not everyone is into the fandom or the pairing or the trope or whatever, it doesn't matter! The point is when you post thousands and thousands of words (Often with double spacing because you're pasting from google docs and not doing anything to the formatting) and then straight posting them to the dash, people are having to scroll past it if they don't want to read.

And they have to scroll A LOT. It's WORSE on mobile, it's like getting back-to-back 'do you like the colour of the sky' posts on your dash, it's fucking ANNOYING.

So when you post your fic, the BEST thing you can do is post the title, the fandom, the usual tags for themes and pairings and warnings and whatnot, and then the first couple paragraphs. Like maybe 4 or 5. And THEN you put the rest under a read-more! That way people who are interested can be pulled in by the first couple paragraphs, figure out if they want to read more, and click in to do so.

And everyone not interested gets to scroll on their merry way, hassle free.

HOW?:

If you've never actually used the feature before, I don't blame you, FR, Tumblr is dogshit at explaining it's features. It's pretty simple, if not a little finnicky because again, tumblr also implements their features in stupid ass ways.

When you are creating a post on Desktop, and you hit enter in the text section, you should see this appear:

(above is a picture of the text tool bar as it appears in post creation on desktop tumblr)

The very last option on that bar, the grey straight horizontal lines with a zig-zag line between them, THAT IS THE READ-MORE BUTTON.

When you click it, it shoves a read-more cut line into your text. So everything underneath that line will be hidden on the dashboard, and people can click a little button that will be there to see the full post. I'm sure you've come across these kinds of posts before, and this is how they're made.

For putting in read-mores on Mobile, it's even easier.

That same symbol is there on your text tools bar, which sits above the keyboard when you're typing up a text post. It shows where your read-more cut is on the post while you type, so there's no guessing or anything.

AND THAT'S ALL THERE IS TO IT!

You might think 'oh but my followers all like my writing, so they're the only ones seeing it when I post, they won't need a read-more' WRONG! Your followers are nice people who reblog your work! And THEIR followers who do not follow you are then subjected to looooooooong blocks of text they have no interest in clogging their dash.

And the last thing people want to do is unfollow someone who they like just because they are reblogging from you who is clogging up dashboards. It's why I have been trying to encourage using the function, because I don't want to unfollow people over this! it's a dumb thing to have to unfollow over!

THIS IS A PSA BY THE WAY. THIS IS NOT ME BEING ANGRY THIS IS ME YELLING OUT POSTING ETIQUETTE SO Y'ALL IN THE BACK CAN HEAR.

USE THE READ-MORE FUNCTION! EVERYONE WILL BE HAPPIER!

I know it's really fun to show off your work in a visible way, but I am begging more of yall who post fanfic on Tumblr to utilize the Read-more feature

[lehdenlaulu]

Whenever I see Andor stuff on my dashboard I just automatically scroll past, and not even because of any resentment towards it and its creator, but because first of all it's just not interesting to me visually, it's not something I particularly want to keep looking at, so my brain just kinda doesn't really register it.

And most importantly, doesn't register it as Star Wars. Visually, there's nothing about it that particularly looks like Star Wars, save an Imperial uniform here and there etc. It doesn't have the look, the vibe, the spirit. It just doesn't. It's something else, too many steps to the left to paraphrase Gareth Edwards. It's like looking at Dune and being momentarily confused because it occasionally does look like Star Wars (thanks to Greig Fraser, mostly), but isn't. But in reverse. You know?

So no, Andor not feeling like Star Wars is not because it's too 'dark' or 'mature' (plenty of Star Wars with dark, mature, and heavy themes jsyk). It's because I don't believe it's actually trying to feel like Star Wars. It's like... Star Wars adjacent. Again, several steps left* of it, something vaguely in the same vicinity. Like a parallel universe.

And that's not even getting into the story content. Which I do have actual beef with, but we'll leave it at that.

(* NOT a political commentary, by the way.)

[wintrcaptn]

Apples and Butterflies part 4

Joel Miller x Reader

Summary : You caught your bf in bed with another girl two months before winter break. Now with no where to go for the next few weeks, your roommate invites you to her hometown so you don't spend the holidays alone.

But you never expected her dad to be the guy who pretended to be your date so you didn't look pathetic in front of your ex. The same guy you can't stop thinking about...Joel miller.

Part one | Part Two | Part Three

A/N : I might stop posting this story idk haha.

Your POV

The drive from the airport is quiet—too quiet. Like the kind that wraps around your throat and squeezes.

The air smells like cedar and smoke and the faint promise of firewood, and somehow it fits him.

Joel.

Sarah's dad.

The man currently driving his old, beat-up Chevy pickup down a winding country road, while Sarah sat in the passenger seat, feet on the dashboard, singing along to the song playing through the radio.

I'm tucked into the back seat with my bag pressed against my knees, trying not to feel every inch of the quiet tension stretching between me and Joel. It's not hostile, exactly. Just... heavy. Like everything unsaid is sitting in the cab with us, taking up too much space.

He drives like he does everything else; controlled, steady, not a single wasted movement. The calluses on his hands grip the steering wheel like it's something alive.

I sneak glances at him through the rear view mirror, and every time...his eyes are already on me. Fleeting stares but still forces a wave of heat down my body to my stomach.

I hate this. I hate that I feel this way. For someone I barely know, and should even care about. He makes me feel like I'm walking across a frozen pond and one wrong word might crack it open and I'll drown.

The road narrows and bends, the fields giving way to scattered trees and rusted fences. Then, just as we begin to pull into the driveway, there it was.

Joel's house.

It wasn't small, but it wasn't the kind of place with winding hallways or cathedral ceilings either. It was comfortable. The kind of place that looked like it had been built with intention. A wide porch, and thick wooden beams.

The house stood two stories tall, painted a soft white that had faded in the Texas sun to something closer to cream. The shutters were a forest green, chipped at the edges.

There wasn't any Christmas decorations, not a single string of lights or wreath in sight. But Sarah didn't seem surprised.

"You know you can decorate without me." She said to her dad.

Joel parks and cuts the engine, "if I had it my way, I wouldn't decorate at all."

Sarah rolled her eyes as she hopped out of the truck, stretching with a dramatic sigh. "I'm starving. Please tell me we're ordering pizza."

The air is cooler than I expected, fresh and clean in a way that makes California feel dusty and far away.

I held the strap of my bag, staring at the house in front of me. My home for a month and a half.

It was breath taking.

"Once I get your things into the house, I'll head over to John's Pizzeria and grab the usual." He said, grabbing our bags from the bed of the truck before I could offer to help.

I noticed the way his shirt slightly rides up, revealing a hint of his hip and the worn leather belt he's definitely had for a decade. And I wanted more.

"Don't forget the pineapple this time." She scowled at him.

"I won't, I promise."

I followed her up the porch steps, the old wood groaning under our boots. Joel unlocked the door and pushed it open with his shoulder.

Inside, the house was warm in a rugged, lived-in kind of way. The entryway opened into a large living room with wide planked hardwood floors and a stone fireplace on the far wall. The hearth was bare, no stockings or garlands yet, but there was an old dusted flag framed above it, and a worn brown leather armchair sitting like a throne at an angle to the fire. I could picture him there—staring into the flames, probably reading his news paper.

I couldn't help but chuckle to myself at the thought.

A wide couch sat opposite the fireplace, the kind you could stretch out on for a Sunday nap, and an old quilt was tossed over the back like someone had actually used it, not just for decoration. The coffee table was solid oak, the surface scratched in a few places and holding a coaster with a ring from a recent drink.

To the right, a large archway led into the kitchen, open-concept, with dark wood cabinets, matte black fixtures, and a row of cast iron pans hanging over the stove. It was all very him.

"Guest room's down that hall, last door on the right," Joel said gruffly behind me.

I glanced back at him and caught his eye for a moment before he looked away like he hadn't meant to. His voice was always low and slow, dipped in Texas molasses, and somehow it still made my heart skip, even when he was giving directions like I was a lost UPS driver.

"Thanks," I murmured. My gaze lingering on him a little moment longer.

"Come on, I'll show you around!" Sarah said pulling me toward her.

I trail behind Sarah as she gives me a quick tour, chatting the whole time like she's trying to fill every second with noise. I let her talk, nodding along, my mind still caught on Joel.

The floor creaked softly underfoot. The hallway walls were dotted with framed photos; Sarah at different ages, a few fishing shots, one of Joel in his younger years with a dog at his feet and the same stern expression he wore now.

"The bathroom is just across from you and my bedroom is the second door past the stairs." She said. "I need to unpack and change out of these clothes real quick but if you need me, just come to my room."

I nodded and flashed a soft smile as I watched Sarah turn and disappear down the hallway. The guest room door eased shut behind me with a quiet click, and just like that—I was alone.

My room.

For the next month and a half.

I let out a long, shaky breath and finally allowed myself to take it all in.

The guest room was simple. A full bed with a heavy wooden headboard, white sheets folded tight and neat. A dresser, an old nightstand, a little window looking out at the porch roof and trees beyond. It wasn't much, but it was warm. Quiet. Safe.

As much as I'd dreaded the idea of being here in Texas...standing here now, in this quiet room that smelled faintly of cedar and clean laundry, I couldn't help the soft wave of peace that rolled through me.

Maybe this wasn't just a break. Maybe this was a fresh start.

I was just about to unzip my bag when a sudden knock startled me. My heart leapt a little, and I turned toward the door just as it creaked open.

There he was.

Joel.

Leaning against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world. One shoulder against the wood, arms crossed over his broad chest, sleeves pushed to his elbows, and that unreadable expression on his face.

My breath caught somewhere in my throat.

"Sorry it's not much," he said, his voice low and steady, eyes flicking around the room before landing back on me.

I swallowed and shook my head. "N-no. It's..." I paused, taking a breath, letting the quiet wash over me. "It's perfect."

He nodded once but didn't move.

The silence stretched between us. Awkward and heavy and warm all at once. He didn't look away. And for a second, I felt pinned in place by the weight of his stare.

I waited for him to say something else. Anything. And just when I thought he'd turn and walk off, he spoke.

"Sorry about earlier."

My brows furrowed. "Earlier?"

His jaw flexed as he exhaled slowly, like dragging the words out physically hurt. "The part where I said you looked... complicated."

Oh. That.

I blinked, not sure what to say.

He shifted, uncrossing his arms, like the weight of this conversation made him suddenly restless.

"I didn't mean it like that," he said, too quickly now, like the words were tumbling out before he could stop them. "Sarah's had a hard time makin' real friends. She's gotten close with people before and ended up hurtin'. Or bein' hurt. Either way, it's always messy. And I didn't wanna... start somethin' she'd overthink or get stuck on."

I blinked, surprised. I hadn't expected that. Not from the man who barely looked at me on the drive here.

He rubbed the back of his neck like the words cost him something. "She was so excited you agreed to come home with her for break. I didn't wanna give her a reason to second-guess it."

"But why would she second-guess it?" I asked, genuinely confused. "It's not like that was a real date or anything...”

The words came out too casually. Too lightly.

And yet, the second they left my mouth, something tightened in my chest.

Joel's gaze flicked to mine, but there was nothing in his face. No reaction. He just nodded.

"Right," he said simply. "It wasn't."

His jaw worked—tightening, then easing—as he drew in a long breath. His eyes dropped to the floor for the briefest second before lifting back to mine. "Anyway, sorry again."

I flashed a soft smile, feeling my heart pound profusely in my chest but I decided to ignore it. Instead I let out a breath and shrugged. "It's okay, you don't know me...yet."

Joel nodded, and without a word, he took a step back and closed the door behind him. The sound of his footsteps against the wooden floor slowly faded and he was gone.

This was going to be a long month and a half.

————————

Joel's POV

My truck rumbled down the quiet backroad toward my house, the pizza box on the passenger seat doing little to distract me from the mess of thoughts swarming my head. I shifted in my seat, one hand gripping the wheel tighter than it needed to. The sun had dipped low, throwing the sky into dusky golds and bruised purples. But even the view did nothing to settle the low burn under my skin.

I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't stop thinking about her. About Y/N.

The damn flower dress and messy bun. The sunbeam of a smile. The way she talked too much and too fast and didn't seem to notice the brick wall of silence I kept wrapped around myself like armor. Or worse...she noticed and didn't give a damn.

It had only been a few hours since we arrived from California. Sarah's final winter break before graduation. I was ready to fly with my daughter back home, even when plans changed and she decided to invite her roommate. What I wasn't ready for was her. The same girl who crashed my table that morning, uninvited. Playing along when her jerk of an ex walked up. Slipped right into the role with no hesitation.

"Shes doin' fine, ain't that right darlin'?"

Sounding too damn convincing for my own comfort.

I thought that was the end of it. A strange encounter that I could file away and forget. But here I am. Driving back to my house where my daughter and her roommate are waiting for their dinner. Her roommate who happens to be the same stranger in that cafe.

She looks so soft, so light. Like the kind of girl you didn't touch unless your hands were clean, which mine had never been clean.

And she was my daughter's best friend, for Christ's sake.

I pulled into the driveway slower than usual, headlights flicking across the front window. Music blasted from inside, some country pop garbage rattling the walls that made my jaw tick. I groaned under my breath as I stepped out of the truck and grabbed the pizza.

But when I opened the door, the irritation died in my throat.

The living room looked like chaos. Furniture slightly pushed back, string lights blinking in the corner, and there they were...Sarah and Y/N. Spinning, laughing, and singing off-key like they didn't have a single care in the world. Sarah was in an oversized sweater and socks, arms flailing as she sang into a wooden spoon. And Y/N...

Christ.

Y/N was dancing with both hands in the air, eyes closed, face lit with that sunshine smile that always seemed to undo me. Her hips swayed to the beat, loose and carefree, and it felt like the air left my lungs. She looked like trouble.

Y/N caught sight of me, her face lighting up and I'd be lying if I said it didn't affect me in any way.

"Joel!" she calls out, still breathless, still glowing. "Come dance with us!"

Sarah turns, spots me too. "Yeah, come on, old man!"

I shake my head, firm. "Not a chance.”

Before either of them could protest, I stepped over to the stereo and paused the damn song. Silence dropped like a curtain. Then I held up the pizza. "Food's here."

They laugh and follow me into the kitchen. Sarah slid into one of the chairs at the table, already reaching for a slice, while Y/N padded in behind her; quiet, but not really. Even her silence had a way of filling the room. She moved like sunlight drifting through blinds, slow and soft.

I crack open a beer, the hiss of carbonation oddly loud in the quiet. They began talking over each other about the Christmas tree farm Sarah wants to visit tomorrow. Decorations. Hot cocoa. Ornaments. Y/N says something about stringing lights across the porch and Sarah gasps like it's the best idea she's ever heard.

I nodded in all the right places. Took slow pulls from my beer. But I wasn't hearing half the damn conversation.

All I could focus on was the way she laughed around a bite of pizza, completely unaware of the way it affected me. The way she leans in when Sarah talks, like she's not just hearing her; she's listening. Present. Open. The way she brushed  sauce off her bottom lip with her thumb.

God help me, I want to lean over and lick the damn sauce off her lips. I wanted to taste her laughter, memorize the curve of her smile, ask her a hundred quiet questions and press my mouth to the answer every time.

I shift in my seat, bite back the urge.

This is wrong.

She's Sarah's best friend.

I clear my throat and push up from the table. "I'm gonna call it a night."

Sarah looked up. "You sure? We were gonna put on a movie—"

"Y'all go ahead." I cut her off before she could try to convince me otherwise.

Y/N met my eyes. "Goodnight, Joel," she said softly, like she meant it.

I nodded once. But said nothing.

I made it to my  room, shut the door behind me and leaned back against it like it was the only thing holding me up. My heart was pounding, stomach tight, throat dry.

What the hell was I doing?

She's twenty-six. My daughter's roommate. Complicated, sure—but not in the way I first thought. She wasn't trouble.

I was.

And if I didn't pull myself together soon, I was going to do something real stupid, something I wouldn't be able to take back.

[smolfangirl]

WIP Wednesday

He drives her home. She has questions. Only some of them will be asked.

From my cheating fic (current word count: 12.8k. Send help)

When they shut the doors on the rest of the world, she turns to him, fingers playing with the hem of his hoodie. “I've been wondering about something, and I'd like to ask you about it. It's something private.” His eyes jump down to his hoodie on her, then back to her face. “You can ask me anything, Mel.” He clears his throat. “You know that.” With the intensity of his eye contact, he might as well be holding her entire body and soul in his hands. She blinks, but doesn't shy away. “Last year, you said she was definitely going to leave you. That you were surprised she didn't divorce you after rehab.” He wrinkles his nose like he poured hand sanitizer over his skin only to discover a new two-inch long invisible cut. “She looked at me like she wanted to. Is that your question?” Well, her real question is ‘Why do you look at me like you love me when you're not going to leave your wife?’. The question that she allows to pass her lips is, “Then why didn't she leave you?” He drags his fingers through his already messy hair. She longs to repeat that motion herself - only rougher, until he moans her name with pink cheeks. Maybe she will try it on Friday. If Becca falls asleep first. “Mel, I… can we do this anywhere else but here? I want to be honest with you, but…” He nods his head towards the hospital entrance, where Robby slips out of the door, both hands deep inside the pockets of his jeans. His face is turned down towards the pavement, but he'll walk past them within a minute at best. “Sure,” Mel says. They don't talk as Frank steers them out of the parking lot. The first time Frank gave her a ride home, Mel spent the first 15 minutes in her apartment on her bedroom floor in silent darkness, just to cope with how much of him had surrounded her. He had leaned over her to help adjust the passenger seat, and she'd soaked in every detail within her reach to avoid thinking about the heat he radiated, or the flutter in her stomach as his arm brushed her leg. Or the scent. Every breath of air carried the exquisite mixture of his deodorant and sweat deeper into her lungs. And she loved it. Wasn't sweat supposed to smell gross? Anyway. There'd been a can of Red Bull in the center console. A lilac friendship bracelet dangling from the rearview window. In the back, toys and books were spread between two matching child seats. The empty wrapper of his favorite protein bar, hastily grabbed off her seat, already threatened to flee his pocket. On top of the dashboard a weathered crossword book waited to be picked up. It had been a lot, even if nothing about it really surprised her. Mel wishes for something new now, so she could readjust the seat or let her eyes wander inconspicuously as they sit in silence. But since that first carpool in early August, the seat position and his car have stayed the same. At their third red traffic light - the one with the longest wait on their route, if not the city - Frank finally clears his throat. “I - I have… to be honest, I don't know why. I think, uh, she didn't want to be the wife who left her husband in his first year of sobriety. Everyone's pestering you about not making any drastic life changes in your first year. So it wasn't… it wouldn't have been a good look.” So instead she's the wife who lets her husband with a back injury sleep on the couch. Mel bites down the inside of her cheek. Logically, Abby has reasons to be mad at him. And logically, Mel would never let him sleep on the couch. “It's been over a year,” she says. “Nineteen months, actually. And 24 days.” He stares at her without blinking. “Give or take,” she adds, as if the number isn't greeting her on her phone every morning. “Nineteen months?” he repeats in a strange voice.

[negansdarlin]

⋆˚࿔ babydoll 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

summary: you and joel are on a road trip and stop off for a quick meal at a diner and you can't resist the way that he perfectly moves to treat you like the princess that he knows you are.

warnings: light smut, public smut (not seen), mostly domestic, affectionate groping, nooutbreak!joel, fem!reader, age gap (unspecified), soft joel:)

(note- this is literally my first ever time really writing anything like this so pls bare with me 🥹)

୨୧・┈・୨୧・┈・୨୧ ・┈・୨୧・┈・୨୧・┈・୨୧ ・┈・୨୧

The gentle hum of joel's truck is the only sound that can be heard as his calloused fingertips run over your knee to genlty coax you awake. You'd been on the road for around six hours at this point and must've dropped to sleep in the warmth of the sun beating through the passenger window after the third hour of tediously watching the road disappear behind you.

As you come to, his voice rumbles out, smooth as honey and syrupy sweet, "hey darlin'" he flashes you a smile and returns his attention back to the road, hand still resting softly in your lap.

"Hey" you smile softly, still in a sleepy haze. You sit straighter in your seat and rub your eyes, pushing away and last remainders of sleep from your mind. The long, gruelling heat of the afternoon had come to an end some time ago it seems as the sun was already setting, casting a golden glow over the horizon and cooling the thick air. You shuffle slightly closer to joel to glance at the map open on the dashboard to see where you were headed for but before you can even begin to gather your bearings joel tosses it to the backseat and grunts.

"Forget the map."

"What? Why?" You ask, slightly shocked by the sudden movement but slightly intrigued by his sudden mystique.

"Nothin' darlin', don't worry your pretty little head, just trust me" he smiles sweetly at you, studying your freshly awoken features like they were the most precious things he could possibly have the pleasure to know.

"What's your trick, old man?" You probe, trying to press his buttons in order to get him to reveal his sudden secret but he just turns back to the road, pats your knee and chuckles to himself.

As the sun sinks low on the horizon he begins to pull into a quaint little diner sat on the side of the road. The white and red decor complimenting the golden sand that surrounds the area, giving the diner a romantic air. Your eyes widen as the truck pulls up in front of the window and you see the retro red stools and gingham tablecloths. You scramble to undo your seatbelt and leap across the centre controls and gearstick to plant a kiss on joel's cheek in joy. He giggles in surprise and his hand travels down your back and to your ass, giving it a light squeeze as he stabilises you, "so i take it that this was a good choice by me then, huh doll?"

"Joel!!! Are you kidding me!? Its perfect! Plus i'm absolutely starving so you have earned extra brownie points for reading my mind" you giggle excitedly, still glancing at the diner in your peripheral. He laughs as he shakes his head and his hand falls from your ass to the back of your thighs, patting them in a motion that urged for you to get out of the truck and head inside.

You scramble out of the truck and into the warm air, stretching your legs and smoothing your dress over your thighs before meeting joel in a hug at the front of the truck. He braces your head against his chest with his hands, softly stroking your hair and kissing your scalp gently, his beard tickling you as he does so. He guides you inside the diner and sets you down in a quiet booth tucked away in the corner of the diner.

"Know whatcha want sweetheart?" He asks with an inflection of love in his voice as his eyes are trained on you with sheer affection seeping through every inch of his face, eyes crinkled at the corners with joy. You nod gratefully as you point to the menu items that caught your eye immediately, stomach drawing your decisions more than any logical reason for actual nutritional value. You watch him pull out his wallet ready to cater to your any need and saunter up to the retro-style counter to order your milkshake and hot dog. Your eyes travel along the taught muscles moving beneath his grey shirt, reminders of the hard work he does to be able to treat you like a princess, a physical reminder of his devotion to you. Your eyes catch his sunkissed neck and the soft curls cradling his ears and a heat rises in your stomach. You pull your thighs together and shift in your seat, the heat rising to your cheeks and flushing your ears. Its hard to believe that such a man could treat you so delicately. He's so easy to watch and dote upon. He turns slowly after shooting the waitress one of his killer smiles, making her blush, making his way over to you with your treats.

Once he is sat down in front of you, and your eyes rake over his broad shoulders and collarbones peeking out from his shirt, you feel the heat begin to drop back down to your stomach right to your core. He's mumbling something about the diner and its decor, most likely about how it reminds him of when he was a kid, but you're too enamoured by the movement of his lips as he speaks to engage in what he is saying. Slowly, you lean over the table and plant a kiss on his lips which cuts him off mid-sentence, catching him off guard.

"What was that for, babydoll?" He mumbles against your lips, the name sending a bolt of need straight through you. You lean in for another, gripping his face in your hands and not caring about the now solemn look on the waitress's face at the scene. He sets his hand above yours and breaks free from the kiss to stare into your eyes, searching for the cause of your sudden shift in demeanour. You lift yourself off of your side of the booth, quickly checking to see that the waitress had disappeared behind the counter before sliding in next to joel, hands already roaming his chest and thighs whilst planting small kisses along his jaw whilst his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you in close.

"Your food's gonna go cold" he smirks.

"Mm don't care, you're too beautiful to resist" you mutter into his neck, palming at the growing bulge in his jeans and listening to his breath begin to hitch.

"Sweetheart, y'know i can't resist ya, but lets wait until we get to our motel so that i can treat you good n' proper, hmm?" He breathes into your hair, groping your chest tenderly as if to promise some kind of release later whilst you continue to place kisses on his warm neck, nodding. He brings your food and drink over to the side of the booth that you are both now sat and steals a sip of your milkshake to calm his mind, breathing hard and tensing to get rid of the growing issue between his legs.

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Once you had finished up in the diner, you make your way back to the truck sat in the barren parking lot guided by joel's arm firmly placed on your hip, occasionally travelling down to your ass and back again like a small promise for what awaited you once you got the the motel. He reaches across you to open the passenger side door, helping you into the truck and planting a kiss on your knuckles before walking around to the driver's side and starting up the truck with a fierce roar of the engine. You settled into the passenger side again, kicking your feet up on the dash like you owned the truck yourself and looking over at joel as he got you back on track on the road. His hair had curled more due to the humidity of the evening and his sunkissed skin had a slight sheen of sweat that made his features glow in the street lights, illuminating the bridge of his nose and his high cheekbones. The truck purred as it chugged along the road, lulling you both into a comfortable silence as his hand finds its way from the gearstick to your lap once again. His fingers firmly grip your wrist as he looks over at you, appreciating your tousled hair and flushed cheeks due to the thick heat trapped inside the truck.

"You're perfect darlin'" he grumbles, only slightly audible over the growl of the engine, but you catch it and flash him a soft smile, one that says 'i'm all yours' and you watch as his gaze lifts to return to the road. Something about his hand in your lap reassured you that as long as you were with him, nothing could ever happen to you. Like a silent promise to keep you safe no matter the conditions. His fingers rub circles on your thigh as he mutters sweet praise under his breath: "my pretty baby," "my babydoll," "so perfect for me." And the sound of this makes a heat rise back up to your ears as you watch his fingers work the soft skin of your thigh, gentle but reassuring. As your dress falls into a bunch on your lap, his hand travels further up your leg, but low enough to still be modest and tender, not urging you to go any further than you want to with him. You focus on his hands and the way that his fingers flex to grip you for the rest of the journey, silently soaking in the gentle touches and praise that he so willingly basks you in.

Eventually, he pulls into a motel and puts the truck into park, leaping out to collect your bags from the trunk before coming to help you out of the truck, hands roaming you all over, less sweet than the touches in the car, more hungry and needy. He drags you into the small room and slams the door shut behind you, sealing you both in your own bubble. His hand finds your face as he pulls you in for a kiss, "now, where were we, doll?"

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hey so like sorry if this is actually so dookie, i've never written anything like this before so i'm kinda nervous to publish it but aaah! hope you like it!

tags:

[wolfydawolfli]

It's YOUR blog! Post what you like. If someone else doesn't like it, they can exit your blog and look somewhere else. Them being annoyed is a problem completely in their own control, there's no good reason it should be your problem too. It isn't a big enough deal to be worth hiding away the things you love over

"if you want to hear about my ocs, my inbox is ope-" NO!! START YAPPING UNPROMPTED!! DO NOT WAIT FOR OTHERS TO TAKE INTEREST, POST THINGS THAT WILL MAKE THEM TAKE INTEREST!!!!

[clevercatchphrase]

Page 360

(Links coming in afternoon reblog!)

[knightofleo]

At the end of the day...

[m--ss--ng]

Got about halfway thru this before Huzzle Mug got borstless.

[wildsaltair]

This will be my single controversial rant about Gladiator and its sequel (specifically my thoughts on Maximus being retconned as Lucius' father), and then I will be silent on the matter because this blog is meant to be A Good Time and I just enjoy sharing my love for Gladiator with everyone on here :)

KIND OF SPOILERS FOR GLADIATOR AND THE SEQUEL (BUT NOT REALLY) BELOW

As everyone knows, Ridley Scott made the choice to reveal in Gladiator 2 that Lucius is actually the son of Maximus from a secret affair with Lucilla. In G2, it's apparently implied that Lucilla was trapped in a bad marriage, fell in love with Maximus, and kept the truth about Lucius' father a secret. Lots of viewers have been split about this, with some thinking that plot point was implied in Gladiator and others feeling that it contradicts what was established in Gladiator.

I am strongly of the opinion that this choice was a bad one, that it does interfere with the integrity of the original film, and that Gladiator 2 would have been much better without that change. I'll give my reasons below.

1. Yes, rewriting Maximus as a cheater does destroy his entire character arc in Gladiator.

We've all seen Gladiator, right? The one where the hero has everything life can offer but longs only to return home to be with his beloved wife and son? Carries their figurines with him into battle, cares only for them when his own life is threatened, lays down to die by their graves after he finds them dead? Spends the whole movie only wanting to meet them again in the afterlife and only gets peace once he's there?

Yeah. Apparently that guy cheated on his wife with a princess. His son and Lucilla's sons are the same age, which means Maximus would have to have been married to his wife while also sleeping with Lucilla.

Maximus' entire character arc relies on his pure, unconditional, self-sacrificial love for his family. Take that away, and you have a generic action movie about a guy who wants revenge because the Emperor tried to kill him once. Even when Maximus has lost everything inside himself and cares about nothing else, he still honors the memory of his family and fights to avenge them as well as join them. He is shown still talking to his wife in the afterlife through prayer and believing she can hear him. As @streets-in-paradise pointed out, it's the equivalent of having Aragon or Hector of Troy cheat on their wives — it's just painfully out of character for them.

There's also an element of Maximus' love and respect for his Emperor, Marcus Aurelius, another driving force in his characterization. I think Maximus has too much respect for Marcus to have had an affair with Marcus' married daughter, even if he knew Marcus maybe would have wished Maximus had married Lucilla. We never get much insight into that part of the past, but if we go by the virtues Maximus upholds throughout the movie, I just don't think Maximus would have considered sneaking behind Marcus' back to sleep with his daughter.

Either way, the emotional heart of Maximus' character is his love for his family, and retconning that so your sequel has a "bigger emotional impact" is nothing short of undignified and sloppy.

2. All the conversations between Maximus and Lucilla in Gladiator imply that they did have a romantic relationship — but that it was public (not clandestine) and took place before either of them were married.

Yes, Maximus and Lucilla definitely were in love at some point. Russell Crowe and Connie Nielsen have great chemistry, and their conversations (both of them) hold so much weight with "what could have been." Lucilla talks about how she wounded Maximus deeply as he did her, and their conversations are full of things like, "Is it so terrible seeing me again?" The weight of their previous emotional attachment pervades the movie in a way that is inextricable from the plot.

BUT. Maximus and Lucilla had their relationship A LONG TIME AGO. This is very clearly established by the way they talk to each other. Maximus has been in Germania for twelve years (taking breaks only to go home, but NEVER to visit Rome). He and Lucilla presumably met sometime before that, probably while the royal family was visiting some city where Maximus was serving in / commanding the army. The details are never established.

However, Maximus and Lucilla clearly had a public enough relationship that Marcus and Commodus knew about it, but there is never the slightest mention in Gladiator that Lucius might be Maximus' son — something Commodus surely would have exploited had he known it was a possibility.

Maximus and Lucilla were in love, but it was before they married other people. They were probably teenagers or young adults who fell madly in love, wanted to marry, but were stopped for whatever reason (probably Maximus not wanting to play politician's games, as he implies). Maximus met the woman he eventually married, Lucilla married Lucius Verus, and they carried on with their lives until they met again at the beginning of Gladiator.

Also, Maximus talks about the respect he had for Lucilla's husband (a far cry from what Gladiator 2 implies about Lucius Verus), and she talks about how she mourned Maximus' family. Sure, you can read into the script and find stuff about how Maximus could have been Lucius' father, but it explicitly goes against the values and implications of the overall acript.

Connie Nielsen stated that she played her scenes thinking that Maximus was Lucius' father. She's an actress, and she plays Lucilla brilliantly. But she's not the scriptwriter, and no matter what her intentions were, the script implies that their relationship took place much longer ago, before either of them were married. @becomelions made a great post about how Lucilla, too, can wish as much as she wants that Maximus was Lucius' father, but he couldn't have been. Not unless you retcon all of Gladiator as fanfiction.

3. Maximus' relationships with Lucilla and Lucius are not meant to replace those he had with his wife and son — they are meant to be reflections of some of the bigger themes of the film.

With all that said, this is not a hate post about how Gladiator should have been about Maximus and his wife and son, and how I hate Lucilla and Lucius' story and think it contradicts that blah blah blah. NO. The storyline with Lucilla, Lucius, and Maximus is one of the strong points of the whole movie — but not as a replacement for the family he has lost.

In a lot of ways, Lucilla represents Rome as the ideal Maximus always believed in: beautiful, noble, and proud. When he becomes disillusioned with Rome, he becomes disillusioned with Lucilla; when he starts to believe in the hope of Rome again, he starts to believe in Lucilla again. They're always linked. Lucilla is not the woman he wants to start over with and marry now that his wife is gone. She is an old friend and ally whom he eventually learns to trust again.

Lucius, on the other hand, represents what Rome can be again. Lucius is the grandson of Marcus Aurelius, and I think Maximus longs to honor his mentor by preserving the life of his last living heir. Lucius reminds Maximus of his son, yes, and he brings out the protectiveness and the desire to do for Lucius what he couldn't do for his own son. But that doesn't mean Lucius has to be his son for that relationship to have emotional impact, as I will explain further in point 5.

4. Maximus' relationships with Lucilla and Lucius are genuinely integral to the film, but as they are — not as what they could be.

Again, I absolutely love the dynamics between Maximus, Lucilla, and Lucius throughout Gladiator. Russell and Connie play off each other so well with those "I remember how you used to be but that was a long time ago" vibes. Russell and Spencer Treat Clark only share one scene, but it's one of the film's most memorable scenes.

However, we are not meant to question those relationships as "oooooh but what if Lucius is actually Maximus' son????" Maybe Ridley left that door open for the audience to consider, but again, I feel like the film contradicts that by implying that Lucilla and Maximus loved each other much longer ago.

When you make Lucius Maximus' son, Lucilla's seeking out of Maximus as his savior becomes less interesting. It becomes "I'm calling on you to save your son even though you don't know he's your son" instead of "I'm asking you to act out of the goodness inside you to save a boy who doesn't deserve to die any more than your own son did." The version we see in Gladiator is so much more impactful.

It also cheapens what Lucius' journey could have been in Gladiator 2! Again, @streets-in-paradise pointed out how much better the sequel could have been if Lucius had been acting in the shadow of a brilliant man who captivated the city of Rome but also was his friend for a little while. As I'll discuss in point 6, having the reveal of Lucius as Maximus' son is just the laziest possible route for a sequel, and it certainly drags down the dignity of the relationships we see in Gladiator.

5. One of the strengths of Maximus' choice to fight for Lucius' survival in Gladiator lies in the fact that he doesn't have any familial obligation to him.

This is one of my favorite points, because I do love the dynamics between Maximus and little Lucius! Maximus has a bone-deep obligation to save his family — he rides for days and nights to get home and save them, but he misses them by a matter of hours. He wrestles with guilt and misery because he feels like he failed them. He was supposed to be their protector, and he couldn't save them.

BUT. Maximus has no such blood ties to Lucius. This kid is the son of Maximus' ex, the grandson of Maximus' dead mentor, and the nephew of his most hated enemy. Maximus doesn't have an obligation to Lucius as his father: he doesn't even know him until Lucius approaches him in the arena.

And that's what makes his decision to fight for Lucius so powerful. Maximus sees Lucius as the hope of Rome, and he decides that's still worth fighting for — something he had given up on before. Even though he has no obligation to save Lucius as his son, he wants to save him as an innocent young boy caught in political matters over his head.

Again, making Lucius Maximus' son cheapens the impact of that decision. Ridley Scott built up so many amazing plot points and relationships, and it really disappoints me that he just cast them aside to make some easy money by relying on the success of the original.

6. Relying on such a trite, overused plot point to make up the emotional foundation of your sequel can only weaken your sequel and ruin the dignity of your original film.

My final point is simply that Gladiator 2 could have been really well done. They could have done something original with it (or something totally off-the-wall like Russell Crowe's vision LOL). But I think Ridley Scott was banking on that nostalgia factor, and he chose a plot point that he knew would be easily marketable — the hero of the second film is the son of the hero of the first film.

We've seen it done literally hundreds of times, from Star Wars to Superman to Toy Story, and having that be the big reveal of Gladiator 2 is just lazy writing. To have Lucius trying to live up to the legacy of Maximus the hero would have been interesting. To have Lucius discover that he's the son of literally anyone else would have been interesting. To have Lucius discover that he's the son of Maximus is an eye-roll-inducing move that should have been trailer bait and nothing more.

Primarily! Because it can't be the emotional foundation of the movie! Lucius has to have his own journey if it's his movie; he can't just walk in Maximus' footsteps and be like, "Father, speak to me," if he's not going on his own individual emotional journey. We as the audience have to relate to our hero because he's our hero, not because he's the son of our hero.

I'll be honest — I probably wouldn't go see a sequel to Gladiator no matter what it was about because I think Gladiator is a perfect standalone movie and should have stayed that way. I just don't think you can recreate the scale and impact and simplicity of Gladiator in today's film industry.

However, I could at least have had respect for a sequel to Gladiator if Ridley Scott had shown some respect for his own movie. I just hate the fact that Maximus' noble, honorable character is reduced to a cheating husband whose only character trait of note is that he served Rome. Maximus is one of the best characters of the 21st century, and I love him too much to support a movie that trashes that legacy (as well as tries to replicate the beauty of my favorite film of all time).

Final thoughts:

Gladiator is a movie. You can read into it whatever you want, and it doesn't hurt anyone.

I love Gladiator more than I can say, and it's really important to me not just as a cultural icon but on a personal level as well.

Anyone who knows this blog knows how much I love Maximus Decimus Meridius, and Ridley's choice to change Maximus' character so drastically is one that really just ticks me off.

To me personally, Gladiator 2 is not canon, and I will never consider it so on this blog.

[glitter-stained]

> people here on tumblr: yeah tumblr batfam stans really love to push fanon stuff on reddit dc fans are much more attached to accuracy and actually interested in the media they're consuming

> *opens reddit to check out if it's really so much better*

> "yeah Mia Dearden's backstory is edgy as fuck for no reason because they wanted to be dark, it should be retconned into something more interesting"

> *insert dudebro alpha male incel take about how great and actually right the joker is*

> "top 10 reason why Jason Todd is a terrible but we're ignoring that like half of this stuff was retconned, ignoring his actual age, exaggerating/depicting events that did happen inaccurately in bad faith with a dash of sexism and gross treatment of victims (yk, just like we complain people on tumblr do) and ignoring/disregarding/downgrading his actual worst crimes because they weren't targeted at known loved named characters so it's just canon fodder"

> "batman is not an abusive father" - please be about how in your opinon the event of evident brutal physical abuse currently being discussed is ooc- "he deserved it" well fuck me i guess

> *sighs*

> *opens tumblr*

[boydahlia]

i don't care that you want an older man to beat you

[gnomewithalaptop]

Transcendence AU Dash Simulator GO!!!

31 notes

🌟 lesbianstellaconifer Follow

okay but actually block me if you ship mizcor -- 'hurr durr but we age stella up' -- SHUT UPPP she's literally a minor and alcor's canonically over a million years old so how about you stop being a freak

🎩 woodsmans-left-nipple Follow

Babe I hate to break this to you but Mizcor's literally one of the most famous relationships in all of post-transcendental literature

🌟 lesbianstellaconifer Follow

I could not have more obviously been talking about Mizar the Magnificent but you know what? Yeah classic Mizcor supporters can fuck off too actually.

Everybody likes to whip out Twin Souls like some kind of gotcha but have you even actually read it??? Like it's literally supporting demon worship and pedophilia -- both of which are EXTREMELY ILLEGAL btw. So yeah if I see any of my followers reblogging that shit I'm reporting you to the Occult Defense Agency idc if we're mutuals

🐟 demonologyturnedmegay Follow

*looks at my Alcorian Literature PhD* guess we better stock up on prison shivs buddy

🍃 haveyouseenmylibrary Follow

okay I'm sorry but

and Mizar the Magnificent isn't????

5k notes

📷 nature-pics-daily

Los Angeles 🏝️

#sunken city of los angeles #new california #travel #ocean #photography #lmao i almost got eaten by a kelpie trying to take this pic pls reblog it

98 notes

🧁 definitely-mizar Follow

Hey guys! Just wanted to let you know that The Scepter of Vanquished Souls, the newest book in the Wanderlust Trilogy, is now available for pre order on Glamazon!

Purchasers of the hard-cover edition will also receive never-before-seen content, including a deleted scene between Princess Samia and the Shadow King!

🤷‍♂️ not-not-ian-beale Follow

Boosting because I honestly cannot recommend this book enough. Truly one of Mira's best (and I'm not just saying that because she married me!)

25k notes

⚠️ alv Follow

CONGRATULATIONS!!!

You are the 6 billionth user to log into Jumblr today!! This means you are eligible to win a FREE WACBOOK PRO!!!! Click here to claim your prize and win BIG BIG REWARDS!!

#twin souls #mizar #alcor #mizcor #twin souls: reawakened #twin souls: breaking circles #twin souls: newest moon #twinner #twincon3015 #not a scam

Based on your likes!

0 notes

🌞 azarath-metrion-zinthirst Follow

So. I had a day.

📖 stanley-pines-memorial-library Follow

Okay, but consider

🌞 azarath-metrion-zinthirst Follow

I don't remember my older brother's wedding

📖 stanley-pines-memorial-library Follow

A small price to pay for no middle school trauma

🐧 selkiebael Follow

Okay so I just read the url and--

Asfdksfjk go off you funky lil intern

📖 stanley-pines-memorial-library Follow

I'm actually the senior librarian. But thanks!

🐈 alcorphabetical Follow

Posts that have 10k notes. To me

15k notes

🔮 demonoftheday Follow

Today's demon of the day is Nxlar the Antithetical! Responsible for the Florida Springs Massacre of 3007, the body count for this purveyor of madness is estimated to be over 400 (source).

🐸 that-one-half-elf-bitch

I could fix her

41 notes

🍑 lookingformygnomequeen Follow

literally screaming crying throwing up rn I've turned off 'Based on your likes' like eight times @staff can't you just get rid of him already

2.5k notes

🎤 rosaslittleredboots Follow

#i accidentally set my alchemy textbook on fire today and i don't even care AAAAAA this is going to be amazing #northwest mansion mystery #pacifica northwest #rosa darling #im about to be so insufferable about this just you wait

616 notes

👹 sexiestdemon3015bracket Follow

🐸 that-one-half-elf-bitch

Nxlar SWEEEEEP!!!

#if you love me at all you'll vote for my lady love #LISTEN i could bring her to the light i nkow i could

37 notes

👻 sweetthingsaremadeofdeeznuts

Lmao so Nxlar the Antithetical totally turned my apartment complex into a pile of sentient sludge yesterday. I'm fine -- I was at work when it all went down, but uh... yeah, my situation obviously just became super not-great. I hate to ask, but I don't get paid til the 15th, so if some of y'all could float me some cash just so I can get a motel room for a couple nights, I'll fr owe you a life debt

Goal: 0/250

FundFriend

LenMo

#fuck demons fr #like seriously what'd i ever do to them 😭😭😭 #mutual aid #pls boost #don't tag as donation

17 notes

🏳️‍⚧️ gliesssse Follow

Important PSA

So idk if y'all have been reading the news lately, but the alcor virus has been making the rounds on the interwebs again. I feel like I shouldn't have to say this but PLEASE don't click any random links rn, ESPECIALLY if they're tagged with twin souls.

I know we twinners love to joke about it, but the alcor virus is legitimately dangerous and has been known to seriously ruin people's lives. Idk. Just like be smart and practice basic caution I guess? Jumblr's pretty much dead these days, so he might skip over us, but it's always better to be safe than sorry

⚠️ alv Follow

This is a good point! It is always better to be safe than sorry! That's why if you're smart, you'll click here for a list of ways to virus-proof your computer. Stay safe out there everybody!

Based on your likes!

4k notes

🌲 discogirl99 Follow

Anyone else just randomly crave connective tissue sometimes

🧁 sparkle-glitter-sideblog

no actually i think that might just be a you thing

#also i heard screaming on the other line when i called you earlier there better not be a mess when i get home #beloved demon brother tag

2 notes

👑 sameeya

Okay guys I might be crazy but what if the Shadow King was actually telling the truth when he said Princess Samia's brother is still alive??? Like, if you think about it, there's a tonnnn of foreshadowing in Crown of Ghosts and the author tweeted that there was gonna be a surprise twist in the new book sooo 👀👀

#i've connected the dots -- YOU DIDN'T CONNECT SHIT -- i've connected them #wanderlust trilogy #mira ramachandran #crown of ghosts #scepter of vanquished souls #princess samia #samia of cleves #shadow king #ahmed of cleves #bookblr

25 notes

🪨 professionalnatural-deactivated30141227

Reminder that you are beautiful exactly as you are and there are thousands who would sell their souls to imitate what you do naturally <3

👠 mizarsfrillypetticoat Follow

I actually really needed this today 💗

🦇 plsbytemevladdyzaddy Follow

Yo quit reblogging this op is a blatant human supremacist

🪨 professionalnatural-deactivated30141227

And? No one cares lmao

⚠️ alv Follow

Enjoy deactivation. Lmao.

🪓 wenda-was-a-lesbian-confirmed Follow

🕵🏻‍♂️ alcor-in-the-tardis Follow

#I sent screenshots of that one centaur post to her boss too #give you two guesses what species his wife is (tags by @alv)

Holy shit. Am I actually rooting for the alcor virus rn?

🍄 warioxreader Follow

maybe the real virus was the friends we made along the way <3

⚠️ alv Follow

No, the real virus is me. Don't take credit for my accomplishments.

🐲 retiredbus Follow

Heritage post

62k notes

🐔 old-friends-senior-griffin-sanctuary Follow

I just want to get dicked down again =/

[prawn-haunted]

got a bit too delusional this time

(based on this beautiful art piece by rosaeadaro)

cut version fur funsies :3c love giving them lifeless eyes

didn't plan to include Gortash bc I just wanted to sketch Omut in this drip (and fuuck he goes so hard in white). But y'know, a wedding photo would be depressing without the second groom lol

they wouldn't actually do that btw. This Durgetash is strictly platonic. But does it stop me from shipping them? Does it stop me from headcanoning my own aroace OC as someone who would actually get romantic with Gortash? Even tho he would've rather died? Yeahh, no.

and am I stupid for this? Maybe. But it's hella funny actually

[waitineedaname]

you know, im curious.... those brave souls who follow me and haven't read svsss but haven't blacklisted the tag, what knowledge have you absorbed through my blog?