#as per my latest reblog

[mangolon]

On one hand I'm very tempted to do this. On the other hand I already wrote an essay on why Kamen Rider Kuuga (2000-2001) is the reason you only see pretty people in TV and I have other things I want to do

[plutobutartsy]

Hello my freind 👋

Please help my family and our children survive the genocide and find a new life away from death 🙏🥺

Please, donate, share, reblog to save our live 💔

https://www.gofundme.com/f/Stand-With-AlBalawi-Family

this is the same fundraiser from the most recent post i reblogged!

it has been confirmed as legit by @/90-ghost. it is save to donate and share so please do if you have the means!! as of me writing this, they have reached just over halfway of their goal (27,447/50,000).

[loverlaner]

btw, i dont think i need to say this because it must be absolutely given but i love, support and want nothing more than peace for jews everywhere. i fight antisemitism in my country and culture daily, and i will do it online too. my anti-zionist and anti-israel stance has never translated to antisemitism.

[empty-movement]

Chiho Saito’s 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection

IT’S HERE. IT’S DONE. IT’S FINISHED. NOW…IT’S YOURS. Happy Holidays, my friends.

Vanna here! I have posted some already about this project, and the responses I got, public and otherwise, have been absolutely incredible. Y’all have been reblogging and hyping this before it even finished…I haven’t felt so encouraged about an Utena project since the musicals! (Yes, streams soon, I promise.) You can read the other post to get more details, and catch my post here with more details about the process if you’re interested. The long and short of it?

This is the first artbook I ever scanned. I did it in 2001. In Photoshop, using multiple scans per page that took hours to process. But it was 2001. A half megabyte file that was 1250px wide was considered extremely hardcore and impressive. That’s just always been the business I’m in when it comes to Utena art, you know? 

It’s now the latest artbook I’ve scanned, and so much of the process, and effort involved, is unchanged. What has changed, is the result. Welcome to your new desktop background. Your new phone background. Your new poster print. 

What I’ve done here is attempt to create definitive digitized images of Chiho Saito’s work as offered by this book--I have removed the print moiré of the original scans, and used my literal decades of experience to try and tease out as much information from them as possible. Without being physically in front of the original artwork (which is a thing I’ve had the great fortune to get to do) this is The Most Chiho Saito you are ever going to get. I’ve tried my best to make sure there is a way to get it that works for everyone:

Do you just wanna scope 'em out? Look at some disaster gays? Grab your favorite one or two? This is the path for you! Check out the ‘compressed’ (not very) 10k ‘web friendly’ (not really) copy at the Bibliothèque, the media archiving wing of the Something Eternal forums at Empty Movement*. All the following links are also available from here. Do you want these copies? All of them? Don't just grab them individually, friend. This batch is 375MB and can be downloaded as a zip of the individual files here on our Google Drive.

Do you like digital archiving? Are you looking for a copy that preserves the archival quality of the effort but sits nice and comfy in a single file? This is for you. A minimally compressed 10k, 513MB version worked into a PDF is now up, shiny and chrome, on the Internet Archive. Do you like the idea of the minimal compression, but want the individual files in a zip? Yep I did that too, here's the drive link.

Are you looking to print these in a larger size? This is probably the only reason on Earth you’d ever want them, and yet a bunch of you are going to go straight for these. Here are the zero-compression JPG full size copies, most of them are 15k across, like simply a ridiculous size. Pick your fave and download it from our Google Drive! 

I am genuinely really proud of this work.** I was able to tease out so much new detail from these���her incredible layering techniques, the faintest brush of her highlights, and the full range of her delicate hand at whites and blacks… details commonly lost in digitization. I sincerely hope you find something here that you’re looking for, as an artist looking for inspiration, as a weeb looking for a desktop, as an archiver excited to see incredible 90s manga artwork saved forever in the digital realm. I feel like I have already said so much about them, and could keep going, but you know what? This work speaks for itself. Enjoy, use, explore, and definitely tell us what you think!

We love y’all. ~ Vanna & Yasha

* AHEM ASTERISK AHEM

You might be wondering what any of that is. Something Eternal? Biblewhatawhat??? EmptyMovement.com? You might even have done a double take at the word ‘forum.’ And you should!!!

I have a confession. This artbook was my ‘side project’ as I worked on this, *the main project.* For a couple years I’ve been banging around with a new domain, and originally I had other plans for it, but Elon Musk ruined my Twitter and Discord is well along on its way to enshittification, and well….we joke on the Discord a lot about ‘reject modernity, embrace forums’ and you know what? We’re right. So Yasha and I are putting our money where our mouths are once again, and doing something insane. We are launching, in 2023, a website forum. Obviously, this is not the official ‘launch’ per se, but I cannot announce the artbook without directing you to the forum, since it sits on the attached very cool gallery system. Oops! Told on myself. Another post more focused on the forum will be forthcoming, but if you are just that motivated to get in right away, you absolutely can! (This will help stagger new arrivals anyway, which is good for us!) If you would rather wait for the ‘official’ launch, by all means that’s coming, including a lengthy screed about how and why we’re doing this. In either case, remember: this is a couple weebs trying to make internet magic happen, we are not website developers by trade. Give us grace as we iron things out and grow into this cool new website thingie…hopefully along with some of you! :D

If you do join up, naturally, there is a thread about this project!

** If you like this kind of content, consider helping us pay for it! We do have a Patreon! If you’re wanting to use these in some public-facing distributive way, all we ask is for credit back to Empty Movement (ohtori.nu or emptymovement.com, either will work.) 

I would like to say ‘don’t just slap these files on RedBubble to get easy money’ but I know that saying this won’t effectively prevent it. Y’all that do that suck, but you’re not worth letting it rain on the rest of this parade. :)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Finer Things 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, age gap, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your mom surprises you with a visit but has a lot more in store than you could ever imagine.

Characters: Tony Stark

Note: Another sexy silverfox.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Thor loves thunder. Take care. 💖

“It will be so good to see you, honey,” you mom’s buoyant voice rings in your ear drum and you move the cell away from your ear. You make a face and catch the eyes of passerby, cringing at yourself as you veer away from the coed and continue towards your residence. 

“You too, mom,” you reply as you keep to the edge of the walk, sure to keep out of the way of students and faculty alike. 

“I have a surprise too!” She rings out. 

“Mm, you do?” You frown. The last time she had a surprise, it wasn’t really for you. Her trip to the Caribbean had you alone for your sixteenth but that was like five years ago. 

Your eyes skim the rustic colours of the curling leaves as wind whips around the collar of your coat. You plug your other hear so you can hear her voice. 

“Oh yes! It’s all really exciting. Just make sure you wear something fancy. I looked up a few local spots and this one looks very upscale,” she trills. 

That’s your mom. She spends more than she should, or has. If she had access to your trust, you wouldn’t have tuition. It’s just another part of your life that makes you feel helpless. 

“Alright, I’m sure I have something...” 

“What about all those clothes I gave you when I cleaned out my closet?” She preens. 

“Mom, I couldn’t fit them in my suitcase.” You don’t mention that you didn’t fit into them either. Your short and rounder than her. 

“Do you need money? I could send you my credit card number... one of them.” 

“It’s fine. I’ll find something,” you assure her and dodge out of the way of a group of frats. You feel so invisible. It’s like no matter what you do, no one sees you, even standing right in front of them. “I should go. It’s windy.” 

“Okay, I guess you can go,” she whines. “But I’ll see you tonight. Oh, I’ll send you the address too. Should I send an uber?” 

“Mom, please, my tuition includes a bus pass--” 

“The bus? Oh, at night?” 

“Mom,” you grit again. “Please. I’ll get there. See ya then.” 

“Alright, alright. I love you. Buh-bye.”  

You hang up and tuck your phone away, keeping your hands in your pockets as the tails of your coat flap with another chilly gust. You slope your shoulders against the autumnal temperate and hide your cheeks against your scarf. You love this time of year for the apple cider and pumpkin everything but the weather isn’t always so pleasant. 

As you get to your building, you look up at the windows. There are signs decrying the latest political frenzy and flags with varying shades of rainbow, and some stickers stuck on the panes. Your own window is barren. Just like you, your living quarters are plain. 

You let yourself in through the front door with a flash of your fob and drag your feet up the stairs. Gabourey is in the kitchen on speaker phone. You often fall asleep listening to her conversations, though you try hard not to. Racquel would be working down at the bookstore, and most times you wonder where Virgie is, she’s in her room napping. 

Your entry goes unnoticed. You hide in your dorm and put your bag on the chair by the desk. You untie your boots and carry them back to the mat. Too late, you already soaked the small patch of carpet between your bed and the desk. 

You toss your coat on your bed and go to the wooden armoire next to the sink in the corner. It isn’t much space but it’s yours. You open the doors and stare down the garments hanging inside. You favour plaid, tweed, and muted colours. The plum turtleneck would go nice with your circle skirt but it feels so stuffy. Your mom said fancy, not uptight. 

Hm. A classic black dress. Everyone has one. Even you. It’s simple. A wrap with a bow at the hip. It emphasizes your curves but doesn’t make you look bigger. You can put a necklace on with it and fight your hair for some semblance of presentability. 

It doesn’t matter much anyway, it’s just your mom. You don’t really care what other people think. She’s the one so hung up on appearances. You’ll just enjoy the free meal, if her card isn’t declined. 

💎

Your mom texts as you shove your wallet in your purse. You put your glasses on over your fresh coat of mascara and read her message. ‘Uber on it’s way for you.’ 

You huff and key in your message, ‘mom, I told you not to worry.’ 

She sees it but doesn’t answer. She never listens to anyone. Ever. It’s why you haven’t seen your own grandparents since your graduation. What a lovely day that was. 

You shrug and grab your coat. Oh well. No use in arguing now. With how quick the app is, the driver’s probably right outside. Besides, you weren’t exactly looking forward to waiting for the bus in the bitter cold. 

As you come downstairs, you get another text. In the chat, you find a screenshot of your mom’s phone, but that’s not her phone number on the confirmation screen. Or yours. Hm. 

You match the license play before you approach the car. You get in and greet the driver. He doesn’t answer you. Wow, you’re in his back seat and you still can’t get a hello. Or maybe the music’s too loud. 

You clutch your bag in your lap and watch out the window. The tension rises to an awkward strangle and when at last you reach the restaurant, you thank him. He turns down the music before you can get the door open. 

“Thanks for the tip, lady,” he says brightly. “Awesome!” 

You smile and bid him ‘you’re welcome’, rather than correcting him. Even if it’s undeserved, you’ll take it. Your mom must already have ordered some wine. Her statement must be close to its limit. 

You get out and look up at the curvy cursive of the restaurant sign. It’s fancy for sure. You cross the pavement and enter warily. You might just convince her to go somewhere else. Somewhere affordable. 

You stand around in the lobby and stare at the hostess as her eyes cling to the tablet on her podium. She taps around on the screen and ignores you. Is she? Or does she just not know you’re there? You clear your throat and step up. 

“Um, hi, I’m meeting someone here. I think they’ve arrived but, er, yeah,” you grip your phone tight, “Joyce.” 

“Joyce,” she squints and checks her screen. You give your last name but she still can’t find it. 

“One second,” you back up as a couple enters and you pull up the chat. 

You frantically text your mom; ‘I’m here but they don’t have your name.’ 

The checkmark goes blue but she doesn’t answer. The bubble doesn’t even pop up to show she’s typing. Your stomach swirls and you look around. The couple is shown into the dining room by a server as the hostess looks at you. You can feel her judgement. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” a man appears in a suit, “I think my guest is here. Young thing--” 

The man pauses and you look up. Your heart picks up in recognition. It’s him. Tony Stark. The Tony Stark. Billionaire, engineer, generous donour to the university. He smirks at you. 

“There she is,” he heads for you and you shake your head. 

“Oh no, not me--” 

He says your name and you choke on your tongue. You touch your collar and shake your head. He chuckles. 

“Sorry, did I scare ya?” He beams at you. “Your mom’s holding the table.” 

“My mom--” you stammer. 

“Come on.” He beckons you with his hand, the flash of his expensive  

“Mr. Stark, did you need anything for the table?” The hostess asks. 

“I’m good, sweetheart,” he winks and keeps his arm extended to you. 

“Alright, well if you do, ask for Chelsea.” 

He laughs again and waves you close. You walk to him in shock. 

“Actually, Chelsea, her coat,” he says. 

He surprises you as he unbuttons your jacket himself. You just stand there. He pushes it back on your shoulders and you squeak. You turn to let him free your arms and he hands the wool over to the hostess. 

“There we go,” he purrs. 

You step away and cross your arms defensively. He bends his elbow and looks at you expectantly, “come on.” 

You hesitate but step forward. He grabs your wrist before you can react and hooks your arm through his. You still can’t believe it’s him. Or that he’s there with your mom. This is her surprise? How the hell does she wander into these things? 

You let him lead you into the dining room. Despite the lingering nip of the fall in your cheek, sweat forms on the back of your neck and speckles your scalp. You look around and find at least a dozen pairs of eyes watching you in turn. 

Stark leads you to a booth where your mom wiggles on the bench. She shimmies out from behind it and throws her arms up. Your escort releases you, brushing between your hand and your skirt, and your mom wraps you up in a hug. She rocks you with a squeal. 

“Honey! I missed you.” 

“Mom,” you groan. 

“Joyce, please, give the girl a moment,” Stark chuckles, “come on, let’s settle in. I��m getting a bit peckish.” 

You eagerly take his lead. You nod as your mom lets you go and you keep your eyes on the table. You slide in next to your mom as she sits. 

“Wine?” Stark offers as he lifts the bottle already on the table. 

“Erm, I don’t--” 

“She’d love some,” your mom answers, “don’t let me have all of that or I might regret it in the morning.” 

You force a smile at her joke. The undertone gives you an ick but you ignore it. Stark pours the glass. 

“We haven’t formally been introduced,” he says as he plunks the bottle down, “Tony Stark.” 

“Mr. Stark,” you take his hand as he offers it and shake it, “nice to meet you.” 

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he slithers the cliche and squeezes your hand before letting go. 

You retract and cradle your fingers in your lap. You’re burning with surprise and confusion still. You glance at your mom. 

“Your mom says you came straight from school, smartie pants,” he grins. “I’m honoured you came all this way.” 

“Um, not that far.” 

“You go to Keating,” he prompts. 

“Yes, er, you spoke there--” 

“I did,” he agrees quickly. “Back in the fall. You were there?” 

“Um, ha, yeah,” you twist your fist around your finger. “I-- It was busy, you probably don’t remember but me and my roommate came to the meet and greet. She got your signature.” 

“Oh, she did? But you didn’t?” 

“Erm, no, I didn’t have VIP,” you show your teeth sheepishly, “sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves off your apology. “You get a whole night with me.” 

Your mother giggles and puts her hand on his arm, “so, you like your surprise?” 

“Uh, surprise?” You echo thinly. “Sure, uh... I... feel like I’m crashing.” 

“Not at all.” Stark insists. 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark, er--” 

“Please, it’s Tony,” he says. “My father’s Mr. Stark and he’s a jackass at that.” 

You laugh, more nervous than amused. Your mom rubs his arm and leans into him, “you’re so funny, Ton.” 

“So I’ve been told,” he agrees but his eyes don’t leave you. 

You shift and peer around the restaurant. You already feel out of place here but with him, you’re even more uncertain. A clink brings your attention back to the table. 

“Come on, let’s loosen up,” he taps his glass against yours, “cheers.” 

“Cheers!” Your mother quickly scoops up her glass and knocks it against his. 

His smirk stays etched in his lips as he sips and you pick up your glass. You drink cautiously and squirm under his intense gaze. You wish he’d look away. Look at her! She’s the one you’re here for. 

[copperbadge]

Your latest bread success made me wonder if you've tried or had much luck making gluten free bread? I'm so tired of most commercially available options, they all seem to dissolve instantly. Awful for burgers or anything with sauce. I miss sourdough.

I'm afraid I haven't done much work with gluten-free baking; the problem is the gluten tax. As I'm sure you know, gluten-free anything, even just ingredients, are more expensive, and the process of baking is more labor intensive and time-consuming for a product that isn't the same. Even the best gluten-free bread, lacking gluten, is lacking one of the defining characteristics of the thing it's emulating.

Since I can eat gluten and am not regularly responsible for feeding anyone who can't, there's no real motivation to do it. I try to always have gluten-free options when I'm hosting, but that's usually stuff like crudite and dip, charcuterie, or fruit -- things that can also avoid other allergens, and depending on the item be eaten by vegetarians or vegans.

Now, all that said, I can recommend King Arthur's Cup For Cup GF flour for baking; it makes the process fairly smooth and the final product seems pretty sturdy, although admittedly the flour is about twice the price of their normal bread flour per pound. I haven't encountered Bob's Red Mill GF flour in a while, but partly that's because when we stopped using them they hadn't really reformulated in a few decades and their GF flour was pretty coarse, and sometimes made from beans my family members couldn't tolerate. They may have advanced since, this was like 10-15 years ago at least.

The King Arthur website has a variety of GF baking recipes as well as mixes and I do have some experience making their GF bagels, which are pretty good, although I think they're actually better if you halve the size (easier to manage, easier to store, since they really need to be kept cold, preferably frozen, and eaten warmed). I baked those regularly for a while for a colleague's kid who was allergic to wheat, and they weren't much more work than baking regular bagels, just required more delicate handling pre-bake.

I realize this is basic and you've probably tried it, but just in case, any GF product you're going to be saucing (as you say, like burgers), you might try griddling first -- little scrape of butter, toss it in a hot pan for a few minutes. In regular bread it helps to both create a flat barrier so the sauce doesn't sink into the bread, and it also dries it out a little so that it can take more moisture to begin with. This is theoretical though, I've never done it with GF buns. I do know that generally King Arthur recommends toasting GF products baked with its recipes.

Readers, feel free to chime in with recommendations! Remember to reply in comments or reblogs, as I don't post asks sent in response to other asks.

[thefreakandthehair]

Spicy Six -Ber Month Fanworks Challenge

It's that time again! I'm so excited to host the Third Annual Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge, with a twist this year! Rather than winter-specific prompts, we have a mix of both fall and winter prompts. With all of the fun October events happening, this felt like the best way to capture both seasons. The past couple of years hosting the seasonal challenges has been such a blast, and I can't wait to see what people come up with this time around!

Here are the rules: 

It's a Spicy Six challenge so of course, you must include someone from the Spicy Six (Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie, Steve, Argyle). Don't feel pressured to include everyone, of course. You can be ship-specific or general. Chrissy is also included! (I know that makes seven– I just don't want to change the title, honestly.)

There are two links below, one for dialogue prompts and one for more general prompts. There will be a claims process, but I've decided to make it easier for everyone (myself included) and will not be limiting how many people can claim the same prompt this year. In years past, it's led to a lot of back and forth trying to choose second options, third options, etc. and there's more than enough creativity in this fandom for people to make vastly different interpretations of the same prompt!

To claim a prompt, simply shoot me a DM with which prompt you'd like from what list (i.e.: prompt 6 from dialogue prompts'). Since I'm not limiting prompts, don't worry if I don't get right back to you!

One prompt per person. You're welcome to use as many as you like, but you can only claim one.

No restrictions for fanart, and no word count minimum or maximum for fics. Long fics, ficlets, drabbles, all are welcome.

Posting will run from November 15th through December 31st. Additional posting details here!

When you post, please use the tag spicysixbermonthchallenge and tag me so I can see and reblog it!

Please feel free to reblog to spread and signal boost.

Dialogue Prompts Here Inspiration Prompts Here

tagging some peeps who've been along for the ride before/expressed interest & some writing/art pals (this is open to everyone!! not just those tagged!): @starrystevie @hexiewrites @stevespookington @withacapitalp @maxinemaxmayfield

@maxineholtzmann @stevethehairington @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @formosusiniquis @sourw0lfs

@steddieas-shegoes @steddieasitgoes @judasofsuburbia @kkpwnall @thisapplepielife

@werepuppy-steve @medusapelagia @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @starthecozy @sidekick-hero

@shares-a-vest @steddie-island @acasualcrossfade @hbyrde36 @ao3usermelancholyhues

@cuips-not-cute @arelliann @stervrucht @griefabyss69 @kaspurrcat

@sparkle-fiend @ahhrenata @nostalgicbones @henderdads @undreaming-fanfiction

@riality-check @wynnyfryd @aidaronan @stevesbipanic @hereforanepilogue

[haveyouheardthisband]

『 FAQ 』

USEFUL LINKS: Submissions spreadsheet (gigantic list of every band submission we've received. Song submissions are on the second tab. If this does not load on your device, you can view a plaintext archive here.) Data spreadsheet (List of every band that we've posted or are still in the queue, in order, plus occasionally-updated data for finished polls.) Song submissions form (Suggest a noteworthy song for a band that's already been submitted but not yet posted. First-come first-serve. These are linked in a readmore under the band's poll.)

⏭ Y'all made a mistake! / How do I get in touch? Please scroll to read the whole FAQ first. If your question has not already been answered, then send an ask. We don't respond to most asks publicly, but we do read them all. We do not often check replies or mentions. Do NOT send band suggestions via the askbox, it is for correspondence only. (If the question/comment concerns a specific post, you can also ping me @estradasphere in a reply, but asks are preferred)

───♫───────────── ⏭ Why was this poll tagged with [x]? Genres are usually from the artist's RateYourMusic page, if they have one. Country tags are also from RYM - we tag both formed/birth location and disbanded/death location. As for decades, we do not usually tag all decades a band was active for, just a few that contain their most popular output. If we get any of these wrong, please send an ask!

───♫───────────── ⏭ Why was this album art used? If the artist has an RYM page, the album art we use is of their most-rated album on there. If they don't, we use Spotify or Bandcamp or other sources. We tend to avoid album art that depicts potentially triggering subjects.

───♫───────────── ⏭ This artist is morally reprehensible! We do not endorse or support any artists posted here. We're asking if you've heard them, not if you like them - and doing a background check on every submission is infeasible. You are free to warn others via reply, reblog, etc. That being said, we may reject submissions at our own discretion.

───♫───────────── ⏭ Can you add a "yes, unfortunately" option? No, and we don't think this is the best perspective to have. Every band is someone's favorite! We are not intent on changing the three options we have now.

───♫───────────── ⏭ Can you post more/less of [x] genre? We run entirely off of submissions, and go through those mostly in chronological order. We do not control which bands get submitted. That being said, we do try to space out polls in the queue if there's a lot of submissions of the same genre/vibe in a row.

───♫───────────── ⏭ When will band submissions reopen? If/when we get through the bulk of the current submissions. Our backlog is so massive that this may not happen until 2026 (at the latest) though. Sorry!

───♫───────────── ⏭ When will my submission be posted? You can check our progress by looking at the submissions spreadsheet. Finished submissions are the ones highlighted turquoise. Keep in mind that we post once per hour, and you can probably estimate the date from there.

───♫───────────── ⏭ Why didn't my submissions post in the order I submitted them? We rearrange the queue if there's a lot of bands of the same genre/vibe submitted in a row. Or for no reason.

───♫───────────── ⏭ Why didn't my submission get posted at all? A few reasons this could happen:

Your band is still in the queue, just not in order (see the question above this one)

Your band has been submitted before (search the blog or the data sheet for them)

Your band is so obscure we couldn't find album art or genre info for them

You submitted a ton of bands in a row that are either all similar to each other or in alphabetical order (we don't want one person monopolizing the blog for a long period of time)

If you think we've made a mistake, you can send an off-anon ask or DM a mod, and we'll post a poll for them ASAP if valid. Accidents happen.

───♫───────────── ⏭ How do I suggest songs for multiple-artist submissions? See here and here.

───♫───────────── ⏭ What's the policy on vulgar/offensive band names or album art? Generally OK, but it'll be decided at our own discretion. In the case of album art, we try to find one of the artist's other works at around the same popularity, and if we can't, we'll trigger tag it.

───♫───────────── ⏭ Why don't you tag polls with the band names? Tagging it would put the post in the lap of every fan who follows or searches for the tag. For popular bands, we feel this would skew the results too much.

───♫───────────── ⏭ Can you trigger tag [x]? We currently tag common triggers like gore, nudity, body horror, and suicide (typically as "#___ tw" or "#cw ___"); if we missed a post with one of those, please let us know! As for implementing new trigger tags, sorry, we have enough on our plate at the moment and probably wouldn't remember it. We recommend using Xkit Rewritten's post block feature and/or Tumblr's built-in tag/content filtering.

───♫───────────── ⏭ Have y'all considered increasing the post speed to more than 1 per hour? We don't really want to, sorry! Making 24 posts per day to keep pace is enough work for us already, haha.

───♫───────────── ⏭ How many posts are in the queue? It's maintained at around 150-250.

───♫───────────── ⏭ Do y'all want/need another mod? Not right now. If we ever do, we'll make a post for it.

───♫───────────── ⏭ How is the profile picture album picked? It's just an album that one of the mods likes, that's all. It changes approximately every 2 weeks.

───♫───────────── ⏭ Why is Spotify used for song links and playlists? It simply loads faster on my computer than YouTube. We have no intention of changing this, sorry.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

JAN MOIR on fire: Meghans become just another pay-per-view plugger turning her high profile into high profit by u/Von_und_zu_

JAN MOIR on fire: Meghan’s become just another pay-per-view plugger turning her high profile into high profit Between not launching her lifestyle brand, not being invited to A-list events and not visiting the UK with her husband, where does Meghan find the time to be an international businesswoman, that is what I want to know.This week, the Duchess of Sussex interrupted her trade and industry schedule to give an interview to the New York Times. How unlike her, is what you are thinking, and I agree.Meghan breached her ongoing quest for privacy, piercing that pearly shell of seclusion and confidentiality, to talk to one of the few publications in the world — along with People magazine, her trusty in-house trumpet — that she knows will treat her waffly pensées and latest commercial undertakings with respect and deference, rather than openly laugh in her face.And so it came to be.\**Meghan would not tell the newspaper how much she put into the brand, nor what ownership percentage she now has in the company, but Cesta confirmed it was a minority stake.So I am guessing that it was sixpence, a free jar of jam and a signed photograph of the Duke and Duchess being presented with their Golden Grifters of 2024 award.Why are we all here? I've lost my thread. Oh, yes — to salute Meghan's 'ability to move merchandise', a talent which was breathlessly admired by the NYT, as if the Duchess were a shiny fashion truck barrelling down the highway of hip.Which, as it turns out, is exactly how she sees herself.\**However, the exiled Duchess has had to wait until now to fully monetise that regal power and fully invest in herself — while also helping struggling fashion brands establish themselves, of course. Of course.'I support designers that I have really great friendships with, and smaller, up-and-coming brands that haven't gotten the attention that they should be getting,' she said.Unknowns such Oscar de La Renta and Givenchy, along with St Ella of McCartney and an obscure apprentice tailor from Milan called Mr G Armani, are all so grateful for her help. As, indeed, are Cesta.\**The Duchess also told the newspaper that, when it comes to being a businesswoman, she is a dolphin, not a shark.And also that she is better than you, but you knew that already.\**Like all influencers — which is what she has become — Meghan always seems to be invested in the higher purpose of self-valourising while imposing her superior taste on the scabby masses for clicks and cash.Look. Plenty of celebrities and even some royals get clothes and accessories for free — but that is not enough for the Sussexes. I imagine long Montecito nights of the soul when Meghan and Harry just burn with pure fury at the thought of anyone else, from handbag maker to napkin embroiderer to dress designer, making money out of them.So perhaps it should be no surprise to anyone that she seems to be turning herself into just another pay-per-view professional plugger, a walking billboard in a perennial marketing campaign for herself, a duchess who has transmogrified her high profile into a high profit, with a price on everything from her ethical diamond earrings to the soles of her shoes.The problem is that, collectively and individually, Harry and Meghan haven't got any actual talent to monetise — all that is left to milk is the very fact of their celebrity itself.For he is a prince who will never be crowned and she is an actress who will never get a part. And it was always, always coming to this sad point. https://ift.tt/2Yd3cUs post link: https://ift.tt/J8CvZrl author: Von_und_zu_ submitted: August 30, 2024 at 04:27AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[splatsvilles-fashionista]

Splatoon 3 Fashion Challenge - Week 52: "So Long, Splatoon 1" Special!

In less than 48 hours, the WiiU servers will be shut down, taking the online component of Splatoon 1 with them. I never owned a WiiU, and so I didn't play the first game in the series, but it goes without saying that we all owe Splatoon 1 a lot, it was the little game that could, made by relatively young staff within Nintendo, releasing on what was widely considered a failed console, but nevertheless captured the hearts and minds of people across the globe with its inventive gameplay, fun aesthetic and music, and surprisingly involved lore.

It's the start of one of Nintendo's latest, greatest franchises, and it's very important to me. So it's only right we honor it with a fashion challenge!

Special Rules: It's all about that retro drip, because for this challenge you can only use gear that was in the original Splatoon! If it was added to the series in Splatoon 2 or 3 then it is off-limits. As always, Inkipedia is your best resources if you're not sure what you can or cannot use.

Rules:

Put together an outfit of any kind that you feel matches this week’s theme. Be sure to give it a name, as well!

Send it to me via ask or submission, please don’t add it to a reblog, that makes it very easy to miss! Also, please make it clear that it is a submission for the challenge and not just a regular submission.

Only one outfit per person! You can submit multiple photos of that single outfit, though.

Please include the gear you picked in the submission. It makes my life just a touch easier!  

The outfit should be submitted before Tuesday morning, as I will pick my favourite submissions to feature on Tuesday evening.

[hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog]

Limelight Series - Chapter 7

Happy Monday! So the universe has worked in my favor for once! here it is! Chapter 7 of the Limelight Series! It is a bit long, but I think its worth it. This will be the last chapter for this series for a while, but it does end on a good note, so I think you all will be happy with it, and can draw your own conclusions of what happens after.

I want to thank you all for reading this story and going on this journey with me and a big thank you to @hobby27 for sending in the ask/message for this story.

All your likes, reblogs, comments and ask to be on the tag list are appreciated and helps my confidence grow as a writer.

If you haven't read chapter six, click here to read it and then come back to read chapter 7.

This series came way of a message/ask from @hobby27 she asked:

"I would love something with Jensen and reader. He sees her when he’s at a convention and he’s bonkers for her. She isn’t so interested in a relationship with him because of the fame. So he has to woo her. Make her understand that he’s not a typical movie/tv star. Slow burn."

So I give you the Limelight series- It's a Jensen x reader (plus size, curvy girl) story, Jensen meets the reader in a bar, he falls fist, she is reluctant of course, but secretly she fell for him the second he walked through the door. So can a small town girl and a celebrity make it work?

Warnings for the whole series: language, multi-pov and switching between the pov mid chapters (sorry I can't help it), Jensen coming off aggressive for a hot second but then cooling off. Some douche side characters and some lovable ones, body shaming, angst, fluff, swoon, Jared is there and Micha is mention.

This story takes place an AU where Jensen is not married but Jared is and has kids.

This chapter is 4K+. Feedback, likes and reblogs are always welcomed. Please don't post as your own work, this is my work. If you would like to be added to my tag list, just ask, I am always happy to add you.

Six Month time jump from the end of Chapter 6

“Well look at what the cat dragged in! Is that the famous Y/N? The one that is dating that gorgeous actor from that one show…oh you know that one….” James sarcastically says, leaning his head back and pondering as if he is thinking long and hard for the answer.

“Yeah, Yeah, very funny” you quip back, making your way through the deserted bar and towards him. It being Sunday and all, the one day that he closes so he can give staff the night off, and him time to do inventory and payroll. You knew you would find him here, you need to see your friend. You take a seat on a barstool facing him.

He gives you a wicked smile. “Oh come on, Y/N, you know I'm only kidding. Besides, I know you can handle it.” He says tossing down a coaster and starts to grab the tequila without you asking for a margarita.

“But, I haven’t seen you around much, are you doing okay?” He asks, finishing up the drink and sitting it down in front of you. 

You take a moment to really think about his question, how are you doing? Really? Fine? Okay? I mean for the most part life hasn’t changed too much, your relationship with Jensen has been good, the long distance thing is not ideal, but…is it a relationship at all? 

Looking at James, you can tell he is waiting with anticipation to hear all the latest gossip. Leaning towards you, that smile plastered on his sunkiss face. God, how you wish you could give him something, anything. But you really have nothing. 

“I am fine, just busy at the studio is all. Had some great responses from my show a few months back so…how about you?” You ask, doing your best to push through. Giving James a smile, you take a much needed drink. Bypassing the subject of Jensen for now. 

You half listen to him talk about the staff turn over, the loss of the summer crowd, and how he can’t believe he is actually looking forward to the college kids coming back. It's not that James is self involved, per say, it's more that, get him talking about work, or about his stressors, and you can have him focus more on himself then you. Which in this monument, might be what you actually need. 

“That's Haven for you, out with the rich tourist, in with the drunk frat kids. Ugh, I am just happy not to have to deal with them if I am still going to be seeing Jensen.” Shaking your head at the thought of the girls that would give you grief and the guys that would act like ‘Dean’ just to get a free drink.

James gives you a curious look, “What do you mean, ‘if you're still dating Jensen.’ You two are not the happy couple I keep reading about on page 6 in the Haven Harold or online in People?”

Oh shit, didn’t think he would pick up on that. You give him a sheepish smile. Better get on the defense. 

“Okay first of all. Mrs. Hanson needs to get something new to print on page 6 besides the load of B.S. you supply her…” You throw back at him, finishing off your drink. Trying your best to come off as pissed off at the sweet kind small town local paper. 

“Hey! My info allows me free ad space! I am not giving that up!” James defensively says.

“And second, Jensen and I haven’t even been in the same area code for People magazine to even get a whiff of anything to write about so…we would actually have to see each other to create any real hot gossip.”

“But you guys are still together right? I mean you guys still talk, Facetime?”

“Yeah, of course, text constantly, Facetime a couple times a week. But he’s been swamped with work. He got back to Texas after the convention and was planning on coming back for a few weeks but his management had other ideas.” You passively say, your eyes focusing more on the condistation that is forming the glass then James.  

“That sounds cryptic.” Now wondering what kind of team was working for Jensen, and if they were holding him hostage against his will.

You give a short laugh at James' concerned look. You shake your head at this, not wanting to go back to those earlier months. Those months when… 

“No, I mean he got booked on some guest TV spots that I can’t really say what they are, and from there he has been booked with a few charity events.” You quickly explain away. 

Relief washes over James and he lets out a breath, putting a hand on his chest. 

“Oh thank god. I thought we were going to have to get the navy seals involved and rescue the poor man.” 

Letting out a laugh that shakes you out of your funk. God, James is always good at making you smile. 

“No sweetie, no need to call your ex, what was his name Ricky?” You smile, and give him a wink.

“Hey, for you I would call him, even if he left me with the tab that night for him and all his officers. That tab cost me two months rent!”

You giggle at this, remembering how pissed James was, when they skipped out on their tab. 

“I still don’t get it though, it's been six months, you guys couldn’t make something work? Even a long weekend?” He questions.

“I know, it’s stupid really, he left, I was getting ready for my show, and so I was focused on that. Then when that was over, he was off filming, out of the country. We kept trying, but it seemed like everytime one of us was going to meet the other somewhere, he got asked to do an appearance, or a charity function.” you explain, feeling yourself getting depressed all over again. 

Retelling the endless loop of the same conversation over and over just now to James has you sick of hearing it. God, it's stupid really.  

“I mean come on James I can’t be like, ‘no don’t go save the penguins. I have tickets to that music festival I had been talking about since we met and I want to go!’” 

Letting out an exhausted sigh, you lay your head down on the bar counter. Word vomiting it all out can take a lot out of you. Feeling the weight of just getting that off your check was enough to help you breathe a little easier that you didn’t realize you were struggling with until now.

“Oh sweetie…” James starts to say, leaning over and placing a hand on your back. “And you love penguins.”

“I know!” you cry out. “Fuck, I don’t know what I am doing James.” You mumble into the counter with your head still down.

“Can I ask you, did you tell him about your show? I was surprised he wasn’t there, or Jared….or Micha.”

You hesitate for a second. Your surprise this question didn’t come up earlier from him. Setting up, your fust with your hair for a second, and nervous habit of yours. 

“Ummm ... .I may have not invited him” you say sheepishly, bracing yourself for the onslaught of yelling that was sure to come from James.

He takes it in for a bet. “What? Why?” He questions, wondering what you were thinking. Crossing his arms around his torso, and slapping over his face, letting out an audible groan.

“Okay look hear me out.” you start to explain. 

“I was going to, fully prepared to. We were talking, he was back in Texas, I had asked what his plans were for that week, and he told me he would be filming…out of the country.” 

You stop seeing James peek out from behind his hands, and then gestures with the other giving you the universal sign to keep going.

“So I figure no point in telling him, and having us both disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to make it.” 

James let out an exhausted sigh, “Y/N! Come on! He still should have known, even if he couldn’t be there. He could have sent Jared and Gen, or Facetime in, or sent flowers.” 

Throwing the bar rag down in defeat, he leans up against the back bar. “You can’t keep this guy at arms length. You got to let him in.”

“I am not keeping him out! Okay. What good would it have done for me to tell him, if he couldn’t be there? Make him upset, and then he’s not focused on his job, he gets hurt or worse.” 

Getting up from the stool, with your back to the door.

“Besides, why should we even assume that Jared or anyone else famous that he knows would show up to my show or should for that matter. Just because he asked? They're not his lackeys, they're his friends. They don’t even know me!” Yelling back at him.

Frustration is taking over, the fact that he would throw that idea out there, what the hell. Where did that even come from?

“Did you think my new relationship with Jensen would somehow have me rubbing elbows with all his famous friends now?” you question, now wondering if James was hoping that fame would have a trickle down effect to his advantage.

“Well I mean…I thought by now, you would have had a few ‘celebrity sightings’ as they say, but it's also you, and you like your privacy so…no I shouldn’t be surprised by this at all.” James says slightly defeated and passive. 

Feeling defeated yourself, you let your arms fall to your side. You thought coming here would help get your mind off missing Jensen, and wishing like hell you could just tell him how you want to see him, standing right in front of you, not through a screen.

“Well I am sorry to disappoint another man in my life.” You yell, feeling yourself break. Everything was just falling apart, you couldn’t do anything right, everything you were touching was turning to shit!

You didn’t hear the door open and close behind you. Wanting to get off this topic of your dysfunctional relationship you just need to get some air. 

You're about to turn a go but James stops you. 

“Y/N, no stop! You are not a disappointment. Look, I am sorry, I shouldn’t be butting into your relationship, I just want you to be happy.” Coming around the bar, James wraps you in a hug. 

Holding you close, his embrace, is exactly what you need. Pulling you close he mumbles in your ear.

 “I know Jensen makes you happy. Hold onto that, I know you two will make it.”

“I hope you're right, James, I can’t lose him.” you whisper into his neck. Feeling the tears on the cusp of breaking from your eyes.

“I can’t lose you either.” You add.

“You will never lose me, kid.” Giving you a quick kiss on the side of your head, pulling you closer to him.  

Pulling back slightly from James you take a ragged breath. You breath in the sent of leather, and musk, Fuck, you miss Jensen so much your now imagining his smell. 

You give a small laugh at this. 

“What's so funny?” James asks, letting you out of his arms, but still holding onto your hands.

You shake off the laughs, “oh nothing…just…I am really losing it now, because I swear I can smell him….crazy right.”

“I don’t think so, sweetheart.” Jensen’s deep sexy voice fills the air behind you. 

Making your heart stop for a beat, you take a second, before you notice the grin on James face, and you quick spin around to stand face to face with Jensen Fucking Ackles.

“Your here…” is all you whisper out before Jensen pulls you in his arms and his lips find yours and melt with yours. 

Your arms wrap around his shoulders while one of his holds your waist and the other roams your back. His lips fit perfectly with yours and you open your lips slightly to let his tongue slip in and dance with yours. 

You don’t even care that you're standing in front of your best friend, the only thing running through your mind is Jensen, that he is here with you, in your arms, and this is not some dream that you're going to wake up from.

Feeling the need to breathe, you pull aways ever slightly, but still stay in his arms. 

“You're here” you whisper out again.

“I am” he breathly says. 

“How? Why?” You breathly blurt out, your mind not really able to form real words. Jensen’s kisses had that effect on you.

“Drove. Missed you.” Jensen is still catching his breath.

“Why don’t I get you two something to drink and you two can catch up…you know with your words.” James interjects. Giving you both a smile and then turning on his heels and back to the bar.

You feel yourself start to blush, as you slightly care about the public display you just had with Jensen. You hide your face in his chest. 

“He’s never going to let me live this down.” you mumble.

Jensen chuckles at this, and gives the top of your head a quick kiss. 

“Come on, one drink, and then we can get out of here.” He promises. 

Making the short walk to the bar, James has a margarita waiting for you, and beer pulled for Jensen. Before you can even speak James jumps in.

“So Jensen, good to see ya man. What have you been up to? What are you doing in town? How's everyone…”

James is as subtle as a gun, you shake your head at his rambling questions and the obvious question regarding a certain cast member. You take a long drink and just let Jensen handle this one.

“I am good. Busy, the show is on a break right now, so everyone is doing their own thing…” Jensen looks over to you for some guidance for how much of a ‘fan’ James was with Micha and if he should be worried. You just give him a shrug and nothing else. 

“But I will let Micha know you said hi.” he adds, hoping that will suffice.

“Cool, cool.” James says with a smile, shaking his head in agreement. Leaning up against the back bar, not picking up that he should be anywhere but here.

“Umm…James…you think we could…” you passively say, hoping he will get the hint. 

He finally does. Giving you a knowing nod, “sure thing, yep, I got payroll in the back to do.” Pushing off the counter he heads for the office without looking back.

Once James is out of ear shot, you both snicker to each other, turning your chairs so you're facing each other, your knees bumping each other. 

“Oh, boy, James has it bad for Micha. I better give him the heads up.” Jensen says, with a smirk, and taking a drink.

“Oh James is harmless, it's just a crush. Besides, Micha brought it on, when he came to the bar that night, I heard he laid on the charm.” You counter, wanting to stand up for your friend, even though you know James is a total flirt.

“Well, he can be charming, I did teach him a thing or two.” He says, leaning in, draping an arm on the back of your chair to steddy it, and connecting his lips with yours.

Letting them dance for a bit you pull back with a satisfied smile. “You are a charmer Mr. Ackles.”

“Your not bad yourself Miss.Y/L/N”

“So what do I and the fine town of Haven owe the pleasure of your arrival here today, sir?” You question. Hoping that he is here just for you, but being ever the realist.

“Well, as you know, Detroit is the motor capital of the world…”

You cut him short “Yes, I have lived in this state my whole life, don’t need to mansplan or school me in my own state sir.” 

“Okay, sassy much, you're lucky, you're cute, and a good kisser.” He counters by stealing a quick kiss before continuing.

“As I was trying to say, there is a motor city charity function in Detroit this weekend, and they ask for me to make a quick appearance, and we are auctioning off one of the ‘Baby’ from this season's production.”

“Oh, that's cool. So in town for just the weekend then?” You question, trying your best to keep a smile and hopefully your voice at a happy upbeat level. Of course he is here for work.

“Well, yes and no. See, Yes, I have to make an appearance at the action tomorrow night with the car, since I drove it here. But also no, since I told my management team that I need a break, like a real break before I go back to filming the next season.”

“Wow, how did they take that?” Jensen actually asked for time off? Really? Shock doesn’t begin to describe your feelings. Trying your best you're sure your face is failing, by the slight smirk Jensen is giving you. 

“Fine, I mean, they have to be fine with it, I am the one that pays them. They were running me ragged, I was getting so burned out. Our conversations were the only things keeping me from throwing in the towel. I am serious Y/N I was this close to quitting it all buying a lot of land out in the desert.” He says, holding up his thumb and index finger millimeters apart to show just how on the edge he was. 

You shake your head at this, knowing that he would never give up acting, he loves it too much, but still. You slap his hand down, but you keep it intertwined with yours.

“When this came up on the schedule It was like fate was giving me the perfect out. We can spend the next six months getting to really know each other. We can spend time here, go down to Texas. What do you think?” Jensen explains.

You're really taken aback now, he did this all for you, he’s putting his life on hold so he can get to know you. Your crazy if you don’t say something, fuck, say anything!

“I love you!” You blurt out, shocked that those words tumble from your lips, but no one has ever put you first this way. No one has ever put their life on hold for you. Oh fuck, you just said it, fuck, fuck, fuck….

Jensen can see you shocked by what you just said as well. He’s shocked that  you beat him to it. But no more appropriate place than where they first meet, where he first lay eyes on you, where he first knew he loved you. 

Before you can take it back, because he can tell you're so close to back tracking it he cuts you off.

“I love you.” Leaning in, he tenderly kisses you, to seal the deal, and to hopefully chase away any doubts you have running around in that beautiful head of yours.

Pulling away and catching your breath, your doubts about saying that you love him first are washed away. Giving him a mischievous smile you ask.

“So when exactly do you have to get Baby to the Motor City Charity function thing?” getting up from your stool and filling the small space between you two. 

His green eyes, looking up at yours with the same mischief twinkle, he knows where this is going. 

“Last time I asked a certain girl in this bar if she wanted a ride, she turned me down so fast my head was spinning.” He jokes, getting up, and pressing his body against yours. 

“Maybe, you should ask her again, but this time ask Jensen, not Dean.” You break eye contact with him to look down at his hard chest, in a simple gray t-shirt, you let your finger run down the v neckline. 

“Do you want to go for a ride?” His voice is deep and low, but distinctively him, with just a slight Texas drawn that you think he purposefully slipped in for you.

You wrap your arm around his neck and bring his face to you, holding him just inches from you, your breath mixes with his. “Yes…take me home…please.” Your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes ma'am” his texas drawn fully on now. He gives you a chase kiss before stepping out in front of you and taking your hand, leading you out of the bar and towards the side alley. 

You're thankful for the short walk to the car, but Jensen doesn't want to let go of you. Peppering you with kisses with the passenger car door open, he finally concedes and races around to get into the driver side to get his hand into yours again for the short drive to your house. 

You try to take it in that you're riding in Baby right now, next to Jensen Ackles, but for some reason your brain is not letting you process it. You want to look at every inch of this car, but all you can keep your eyes on is the man sitting next to you, the feel of his hand in yours, and the butterflies in your stomach.

The sun is low, casting a beautiful mixture of pinks and oranges in the sky, reflecting off the water as you pass by, the windows down letting in the last of the summer wind. You lean over to flip on the radio to see what Jensen is listening to on the drive and no surprise there, classic rock blasted through the speakers, causing you to laugh out loud and making Jensen smile and hearing your laugh in person, it sounds so much better in person than over Facetime.  

Pulling into your driveway, Jensen shuts off the car, but you two don’t race out of the car yet. Taking in the quietness of the area, the advantage of living in a resort town, most of your neighbors are gone by September. 

There is something about him, Jensen, just makes you feel alive, makes you feel, almost whole again. He makes you comfortable with yourself, and your confidence overtakes you. That you slide over to him. Your lips find his neck and you start to kiss. His breath hitches, and he picks you up so you can straddle his lap.

Breaking from his lips for a second to explore his neck again, and start to leave marks up and down in. Jensen, breaks the silence. 

“You know, your house is right there, we don’t have to act like some horny school kids.” He jokes, but then leans in and starts to kiss your neck and chest to make his own marks to match the ones he knows you started to make on him.

“I know but…fuck…” You try to form a sentence but can only string a few words together before your mind is distracted by his lips.

He pulls back giving you a wink, “you started this.” he smirks back.

“No, you started this, six months ago, when you kissed me for the first time.” You counter, putting the blame back on him. Anding to torture by rocking agist him slightly.

Jensen lets out a small grown at this, his hands have found their way to the hem of your vintage concert t-shirt. It's soft between his finger tips, but he would rather have something else that soft between them. He quickly looks to the left and right of him, noticing that the houses on either side look abandoned, closed up for the summer season. It's almost dusk, but still light out enough that anyone passing by could see. He’s tempted, lord knows, seeing more of her, has never been an issue for him. But this is all new for Y/N, and it is her hometown.

“Fine, but just for the record, you started this. Six months and one week ago. Back in that bar. When you gave me that look and told me….what was it again…my Dean Winchester was showing?” He jokes. Giving her that thousand watt smile, then pulling her down for a searing kiss.     

Pulling back from him and letting your lungs fill with air, you reply, “God you're cute. Come on, let's get inside, before the neighbors start talking. We can order dinner.” Doing your best, but failing to gracefully get off his lap and onto the other side of the bench seat. You push open the passenger door, and get out.

*********

Dinner of pizza, classic movies, and popcorn were on the list of festivities for the night. Having Jensen in the same space was perfect, it was easy, there were no awkward fumbles of getting in each other's way, you seemed to move with ease. 

After the second movie you were both getting tired, You were tired from the emotional rollercoaster ride that you went on today, and Jensen was tired driving from Texas to Michigan. 

Letting out a yawn for the fourth time Jensen finally called you out. “Alright that's it.” Picking up the remote from the coffee table and shutting off the tv.

“Hey, come on, we can finish it, I am fine really.” You say, before another yawn hits.

This causes him to yawn as well. “No, come on. I am tired too.” Getting up from the couch, he grabs your hand and leads you to the bedroom.

Both dressed down in your comfy clothes after dinner, him in gray sweats and a white shirt, you in black leggings and purple tank top.

He gives you a kiss before turning towards the guest room, but you stop him. 

“Where are you going?” You question, still holding onto his hand.

Turning back to you he looks at your still interlocking hand, and then to you. “I just thought…well…I didn’t want to assume.”

He starts to explain, but you cut him off, pulling him back to you, bringing your one hand behind his head and pulling it towards you and wrapping your other around his waist. Crashing his lips into yours. You back into the doorframe, and he braces himself so he doesn’t put his full weight on you. 

Pulling out of the intense kiss, you take a second to breathe. 

“You're not staying in that spare room. I was stupid enough to have you sleep in there once before, but never again.” You say matter of fact. Walking back into the room, pulling him along. 

Jensen follows, kicking the door closed behind him, happy to follow wherever you go.

The End.....(for now)

Tag List:

@ladysparkles78 @smoothdogsgirl @n-o-p-e-never @stoneyggirl2 @lmhf1 @kr804573 @deansimpalababy @livingdeadblondequeen @winchesterwild78 @foxyjwls007

[occasionallycoinpin]

i think this thing’s been here long enough to warrant a pinned post

occasionally coinpin in:

featuring everyone’s favorite characters: Coiny, Pin, and that god-forsaken Coiny Speaker Box

q & a under the cut

what the hell is this?

exactly what it says on the tin. posting my crappy coinpin doodles, occasionally. usually at least once-per-day, but who the hell knows if i can keep that up.

who do i hold responsible for this crud?

that would be me, @tapwater118. while this blog is strictly dedicated to coinpin, i do non-coinpin related things over there if that suits your fancy.

what kind of coinpin is on the menu?

mostly “canon” (i.e. not adhering to any au), but there will also sometimes be stuff based on idfb fear garden, as well as my own aus (which you can maybe find more details about on my main blog).

additionally, while the humor may sometimes be raunchy and crude, the will be no NFSW content.

(idk where else to put this but non-occasionally coinpin posts with be tagged with ‘#not occasionally’ in case you don’t want to listen to me ramble about dumb crap)

“but, but, that’s not how it is in canon!!!”

my blog, my headcanons. if you don’t like it, go make your own [blank]ly coinpin blog so i can sue you for great financial benefit.

what can i, a humble coinpin fan, do to participate in this wonderful blog?

well for starters, reblogs are always appreciated. if everyone who reads this reblogs at least one coinpin post we will take over the website by the end of the fiscal year.

also, the ask box is open! submit occasionally coinpin ideas there, and if i use it, you get credit and bragging rights. what fun! (do note that just because you submit a suggestion does NOT mean i will use it. some of you have very dumb ideas) (also i tend to plan these out a bit in advance, so suggestions are somewhat saved for periods when the creative juices aren’t flowing)

regarding the asks, i will IGNORE any submissions that fall into any of the following categories:

- anything that does not involve coinpin. i feel like this is obvious but it is worth saying regardless

- “do something from the latest jnj video!!!” i will do that regardless of what any of you say, so zip it

- anything nfsw, as stated before there will be no nfsw here. go get your fix elsewhere

do note that i also might not do a request if it involves a series/thing i am not familiar with, though of course it still doesn’t hurt to ask (nobody’s a mind reader)

coinpin :)

coinpin :)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bad Guy 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The men your mother brings home rarely stick around, but her latest catch can't seem to unhook himself from your life.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Note: I'm going to a physio today for the first time.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The house is quiet as you come out of your room. The single floor is just enough room for you and your mom. You’ve never needed much else and all your life, you’ve made do with what you have. It’s just the way it is.

You stretch your arms and arch your spine as you stop in the doorway of the kitchen. You yawn. You fell asleep reading outdated discussions about your most recent syndicated obsession. You should know better by now, that thorn in your neck is only driving deeper. 

You bend at the elbows to rub your neck and drag your feet over the cold tile. Your nipple poke rigidly against your cropped tank top and goosebumps raze up your bare thighs. You open the fridge and pull out the bottle of orange juice, your panties riding up with your movement.  

Before you can stand straight, a sharp strikes snaps against your ass and radiates through your flesh. You yipe and grip the bottle by the neck as you jump and turn to face the culprit. The strange man stares back, his brows twitching. 

“Mm, you’re not Gail,” he mutters. 

“No, I’m not,” you press the juice to your chest, overly aware of your barely covered body.  

You don’t ask who he is. You stopped doing that in middle school. She’s another one of her ‘callers’. You don’t usually see them more than once, if at all. Most leave before you’re awake. 

“Was takin’ a piss, heard you skittering around, thought...” he trails off into a shrug. 

He’s shirtless too. He only wears a pair of briefs as he stands shameless before you. A dark tattoo covers half his chest and extends around his shoulder and down his arm. It’s the typical snake and skull aesthetic sported by men like him. 

“Nope,” you reach for the fridge door and step to the side as you close it.  

He doesn’t move. You go to dip around him and he moves with you. 

“Taking all that with you?” He points at the bottle. You look down and sigh. You push it towards him. “Here.” 

He puts his hand under it and you let go. You skirt around his other side and squeeze through the door behind him. You don’t look back as you flee to your room. You resist the urge to reach back and cover the bottom of your ass, not wanting to draw attention to it if he is watching. 

You shut your bedroom door and cringe. Great. You can’t really complain. Your mother hasn’t kicked you out. Yet. Not like half your friends’ parents. She just asks for half the rent and you can manage that. With the rent around here, you’d be on the street otherwise. 

You cross the room and flop on the bed. You pull out your phone and go back to scrolling the old discussion boards. It’s funny. The more recent posts are totally contrary to the ones when the show aired. You’re not sure who you agree with. 

You roll onto your back and drop your phone to the mattress. You have to work at noon. So much for a relaxing morning. You’ll just be hiding in your room until that man leaves. 

A knock jerks you up and you roll your eyes. You search the floor and pull on the wrinkly pajama bottoms. You go to the door and crack it open an inch. It’s him. 

“Uh, hi?” You utter dully. 

“Got you a glass,” he offers one of the cups in his hands. You squint at it then look him in the face. 

“Thanks?” You go to take it but he doesn’t let go as you wrap your fingers around the cold glass.  

“There a problem?” He asks. 

“Uh, no,” you scrunch your nose. “I said thanks.” 

“I don’t like your tone.” 

You let go of the glass and retract your hand. His eyes flick down and yours do too. The white tank does little for your modesty. You cross your arms. 

“Okay? Well, never mind,” you go to close the door and he steps forward, digging his elbow into the wood as he blocks you with his body. 

“Your mom said you’re a nice girl,” he looks you up and down again. “Coulda fooled me walking around like that.” 

You frown. It’s your house. Why should you worry about what you’re wearing? Besides, if you knew he was there, then you wouldn’t wander around in your panties. 

“Thanks for the orange juice but you should just give it to my mom. That’s why you’re here,” you shrug. 

He scoffs. “Got a smart mouth.” 

“No, I—I didn’t do anything.” 

“There you go again. Disrespectful.” 

“Huh?” You shake your head in confusion. 

“That way you talk. Low and flat, like you don’t give a fuck. Maybe you don’t. Would explain why you’re grown living in your mommy’s house,” he mockingly pouts. 

You blink, “you don’t know me.” 

“I know girls like you. Pretending like they don’t care. You care. We both know you do.” He moves a glass closer, “say thank you. Like you mean it.” 

“I don’t want it,” you insist. 

“Don’t want to waste it. Was it you or mommy who paid for the bottle?” He taunts. 

You grit your teeth. What is his problem? Why won’t he just leave you alone? 

You deflate. You really just want him to go. You look at the ceiling then back to him. He’s the kind of man you would avoid on the street. His blue eyes are as cold as ice and his hair is shaved, but a little longer on top, and he sports a goatee amid the short stubble on his jaw and cheeks. 

“Thank you,” you reach for the glass again. 

“Thank you, sir,” his voice grizzles as he corrects you. 

You steel yourself and your lips slant. You really just want him to tell him to fuck off but like you always do, you don’t say what you think. You keep it inside. Put on that face that keeps you safe. 

“Thank you, sir,” you repeat after him. 

“Now smile,” he demands. 

You flinch and look away. You take a breath. That’s you’re least favourite, when they tell you to smile. It happens often at your job and it always sours your day. 

You force a smile. 

“Come on, you can do better,” he snickers. 

Your cheeks tremble and your smile falls. You tuck your chin down. 

“Can you please just leave me alone?” You mumble. 

“Excuse me, girl? I can’t hear you.” 

“I said...” your throat locks up and your eyes singe. God! When you get angry, you don’t get bold, you just get teary. You hate it. “I said ‘thank you, sir’.” 

You grab the glass so abruptly that it sloshes over the side. You don’t stop, you just spin and throw your weight against the door. He lets it close and it slams. You spill most of the juice down your front. 

You hear the friction of his fingers dragging down the wood. It sends a chill through you. You slowly pull away and put the glass down, juice dripping down your arms and chest. 

He’ll be gone soon, just like the rest. 

💀

Your mom’s still asleep when you leave for work. As you sneak out of your room, you listen for any sign of life.  If the man’s there, he doesn’t make himself known. You step into your shoes and leave through the front door without looking back. 

You head down the street with your earbuds in, a podcast about an old show you watched in high school droning on, as you take the shortcut behind the house at the end of the street. It’s almost four blocks to work but you save money on bus fare. You try to only waste the change after dark. 

The ice cream shop is never very busy outside of the post-soccer game crowds. You take your vigil behind the cold counter and bob along with the radio station’s Top 10 countdown. Miley leans in the corner by the till as she chews gum and scrolls through her phone. 

You’re fidgety to do the same, but you hate just letting your eyes glaze over. You pace a bit back and forth until her shift is up. When she’s gone, you feel a little less on edge. You always prefer being alone, you don’t have to worry about performing. 

Customers come and go. You greet them with the usual ‘how can I help?’ You’ve never been very good at the customer service part but you’re not rude. You just do your job, which it to scoop ice cream and toss some sprinkles around. 

You’re entitled to one cone a shift. You rarely have it. You don’t need the extra sugar or the brain freeze. That day, as you close up, the chocolate peanut butter entices you to go outside your routine. You put the lids on all the canisters except for that flavour and do yourself up a waffle cone before you lock up. 

You lick the softening cream and turn to face the dark plaza, lit only by the overhead marquee. There’s a car idling just by the curb. You ignore it. A few neighbouring businesses close up around the same time. 

The engine revs, and it jolts forward. The horn nearly has you throwing your cone. You fall back into step and keep walking. The Trans Am continues to follow you and honks again. The window rolls down as someone whistles. Only your name stops you. 

You turn and bend to see through the window. What the heck? It’s him. The man that invaded your house and threatened you over orange juice. 

You exhale through your nose and stand up. You turn down the pavement and keep going. The bus will be there any moment. 

“Hey,” he barks, “get back here.” 

You keep going. Why is he there? Because of the orange juice? 

The car door opens and closes. You speed up as you hear him following you. 

“Your mom sent me to pick you up,” he says. 

You snort, “sure she did.” 

“Really,” he says as his footsteps echo yours. 

“She doesn’t even know when I work,” you keep going and he catches your arm, yanking you back. 

You spin to face him and yelp. Your scoop shifts precariously in the cone. You try to pull away but not too hard as you selfishly want to keep your treat intact. 

“Alright. I offered. I heard you leave. Figured you could use a lift.” He squeezes and you whimper. “I can be a nice guy.” 

Can be. 

You wince and flutter your lashes, “can you let me go... please?” 

He opens his fingers sharply and lifts his hand, showing his palm. “Since you said please...” 

You look over your shoulder then back at him. Finally, you glance at your cone. You weigh your options. You’re not a quick runner. 

“I appreciate the ride but--” 

“I appreciate the ride, sir. Like I said, I can be nice, but respect is earned, girl.” 

You swallow tightly, cheeks pinching. 

“Sir, I appreciate the ride but I have money for the bus--” 

He clucks and points over your shoulder, “that bus?” 

You turn and watch the headlights blow by the stop. You flick your eyes to the sky and face him again. “Mmhmm.”” 

“So, is that a ‘thank you, sir’ on your lips?” He challenges. 

You slant your lips back and forth. You fight back a wave of hot frustration. You’re used to feeling powerless but he is suffocating. You nod. 

“Thank you, sir,” you choke out. 

“See, not that hard to be a good girl.” 

He waits until you move. You head back towards his car, and he gets in the driver side. As you claim the passenger seat, he huffs. He looks at you as you try not to acknowledge him. 

“Don’t like food in the car. Try not to get it all over,” he snarls. 

“I can--” 

“Just be careful,” he snips. 

Just be quiet, you tell yourself. You pull the seatbelt down and stare through the windshield. You lick around the cone as the cream threatens to melt onto your fingers. The car idles and you glance over. He watches your tongue as you lap up the trickle.  

You sit back as his eyes cling to your lips. He lifts his chin and turns straight. He grips the wheel and cranks the volume on the stereo. He speeds off and you struggle to keep from doing just what he warned you not to. You’d tell him to slow down but not only will he not listen, but the sooner you’re home, the better. 

[azulcrescent]

omg hi i didn't know you were on tumblr i randomly decided to revive my tumblr account and stumbled onto a friend reblogging ur latest post

can i just say that the day i found your comic on webtoon this year in January i binged all of it in a single day i love love love your artstyle it's so pretty >_<

honestly im still not sure if i'm trans per se but i definitely know that my perception of gender is fluid to some degree, i haven't figured myself out fully yet, but your comic really helped me crack the final layer of my egg, so to speak (am not aware if this term extends generally but oh well look im rambling). yes im still confused lol.

that's all ty for listening to my ramble bai <3

Thanks for sharing your experience! My experience with gender is very binary so its always fascinating reading the experiences of people who are gender fluid! And thank you, glad you like the comic! ><

[thehusbandoden]

Dinner and Banter -Villain!Dabi x Pro hero!Reader

A/n: I took a few weeks off for mental health, but luckily I'm back to writing :3

General info: Genre: fluff/slice of life \\ wc: 532 \\ female reader (per usual) \\ posted: 02/05/2024

You mindlessly listened to the latest news report as you cooked dinner. The highly wanted villain Dabi had burned down several stores across a nearby city. Each owner was a suspect of child abuse. Three of the five died, and the two that survived have gone missing. You hummed in thought as the news reporter went on about how they had a new lead on Dabi.  

Glancing at the time, you turned off the stove top, pulling the pot to the side to cool as you head into your room to change into pajamas. You were still wearing your hero costume. You didn’t bother closing the door as you pull your jumpsuit off, throwing it into the hamper as you pull an oversized t-shirt and shorts.  

Once you finished changing you pull your hair into a sloppy bun before heading back into the kitchen. Grabbing out two plates, you begin to serve dinner. It only took a few seconds before you heard someone opening your window and sliding in. You smile slightly, not looking up as heavy footsteps make their way behind you.  

Warm arms wrap around your waist. You hum, leaning into the warm chest of your lover. “Miss me?” He murmured, his deep voice filling you with warmth as he gently kissed the back of your neck.  

“Yes.” You giggle, turning around in his embrace to gently kiss his lips. He kisses back, stroking your cheek before playfully nipping your nose. “Hungry?”  

“Very.” Dabi sighs, kissing your jaw. “I almost got caught. Three times.” He continues, burying his face in the crook of your neck.  

“Be way more careful.” You gently scold.  

“I know I know. I’m sorry.” Dabi chuckles, kissing your neck to soothe you. You huff, gently pinching his arm before picking up the plates, forcing him to let go.  

Dabi whined at the lack of your warmth, following closely behind you. He sits down, pulling you into his lap. Laughing, you place the plates on the table, snuggling into his lap as you begin to eat. Dabi grinned as you let him hold you, kissing the back of your head before beginning to eat himself. 

“So good.” He groaned after a few bites, squeezing your arms in appreciation.  

“I’m glad you think so.” You giggle.  

Dabi hummed as he continued eating, his fingers tracing your shoulder down to your wrist.  

“Dabi, what happened to the two surviving owners?” You ask, tapping his knee curiously.  

Dabi shrugged, continuing to eat. “We took them in for questioning.”  

“So... did they?” 

“Oh yeah.”  

“And you took care of them?”  

“They’re long gone. Slow and painful for such a vile crime.”  

“Good.” You sigh, smiling.  

Many would be shocked and disgusted if they found out that one of the most loved and trusted heroines was sitting on one of the most wanted villains' lap, but you really didn’t care. You loved him, and he loved you.  

“What’re you thinking about, gorgeous?” Dabi hummed, kissing your shoulder blade.  

“Ah nothing.” You grin, teasing him gently.  

“Oh? Do you have another man on your mind?” Dabi hummed in thought, leaning forward to give you a skeptical look.  

“I only have one man on mind. Now and forever.”  

Dabi froze, his heart melting as he smiled. “And I will only ever have one woman.”

~~~~~

Dabi's masterlist | Masterlist | Navigation | You can tip me here <3

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated <33

~~~~~

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.

[thefreakandthehair]

Hi friends! It's that time again! I'm so excited to host the Second Annual Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge! The past year of seasonal challenges has been such a blast, and I can't wait to see what people come up with this time around!

Here are the rules: 

It's a Spicy Six challenge so of course, you must include someone from the Spicy Six (Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie, Steve, Argyle). Don't feel pressured to include everyone, of course. You can be ship-specific or general. Chrissy is also included! (I know that makes seven– I just don't want to change the title, honestly.)

There are two links below, one for dialogue prompts and one for more general prompts. Please DM me at thefreakandthehair with your claim. Prompts go on a first come, first serve basis, and historically, they've gone fairly quickly! I'm just one person, so DMs make it easier for me to see who claimed what first. If we're friends on Discord, that's also totally fine since those are timestamped, too.

More than one person can claim the same prompt if it’s for a different pairing/character/grouping or if it’s for a different medium (i.e.: a prompt can be claimed for a fic by one person, and the same prompt can be claimed for a fanart by someone else).

This year, I'm limiting people to two prompts per person. If you'd like to use two for one fic, please just claim the one that's the main inspiration and feel free to use whichever others you'd like within the fic!

No word count minimum or maximum for fics. 

Posting will run from December 15th through January 31st. With all of the events happening, we're having a longer posting timeframe this year! Additional posting details here!

When you post, please use the tag SpicySixWinterFanworksChallenge and tag me so I can see and reblog it!

Please feel free to reblog to spread and signal boost.

Dialogue Prompts Here

Inspiration Prompts Here

tagging people who've been on the ride before/expressed interest/pals! everyone is welcome, tumblr just limits you to 50 tags per post: @starrystevie @starryeyedjanai @patchworkgargoyle @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @withacapitalp @stargyles @stevespookington @stevethehairington @nostalgicbones @shares-a-vest @wynnyfryd @steddieas-shegoes @steddieasitgoes @maxinemaxmayfield @maxineholtzmann @kaspurrcat @sparklyslug @sparkle-fiend @ahhrenata @sentient-trash

@hexiewrites @hbyrde36 @sharpbutsoft @thisapplepielife @henderdads @strawberryspence @spicysix @sidekick-hero @firefly-party @gothbat99 @fragilecapric0rnn @judasofsuburbia @kkpwnall @fastcardotmp3 @yournowheregirl @flowercrowngods @delta-piscium @hammity-hammer @unclewaynemunson @undreaming-fanfiction @fruityfour @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @hereforanepilogue @t-boyeddie @matchingbatbites @artaxlivs @wormdebut @pearynice @aringofsalt @spinmewriteround