#don't be afraid to send asks

[poorlittlegreenie13]

Greenie's Masterlist — Come & join the party <3

About Me:

Hi! My name is Greenie, which is a reference from David Bowie's song The Jean Genie which has the lyric "Poor little Greenie" in it.

I'm a 20-something lesbian virgo, triple earth sign, eternal-student, Donna Tartt enthusiast, 90's alt rock enthusiast, record-collector, & fic writer <3.

This blog doesn't have a specific theme... I go wherever the muses take me. Below you'll find links to & descriptions of all of my fics sorted by fandom.

Link to my AO3

Stories:

The Bear:

Rules For (fake) Dating an Italian 🇮🇹 - Sydney/Carmy. In progress.

WANTED: Female, aged 20-30, to be my date for Christmas eve dinner with my Italian family. Must be willing to eat my mom’s cooking. No physical intimacy required. No strings attached—I will drive you home after. 4pm-10pm, 12/24. Salary negotiable. Call Carmen: (773) 555-0901.

OR: The one in which Sydney just needs a job, and Carmy will die before he proves Richie right.

Yellowjackets:

Wretched Things 🔥 - Jackie/Shauna, Taissa/Van, Lottie/Natalie. Complete, WC: 260K

It’s been five years since Shauna Sadecki volunteered for Jackie Taylor at the Reaping and won the 45th Hunger Games. Now, at the second annual Quarter Quell, everyone who has been previously Reaped is eligible to be thrown back into the arena. That includes former best friends Lottie and Natalie, and former lovers Van and Taissa.

(aka, me offering up another Yellowjackets Hunger Games AU)

The Killing of a Sacred Doe 🦌 - Lottie/Natalie, Jackie/Shauna, (minor Tai/Van, minor Natalie/Shauna). In progress.

|| Inspired by The Secret History by Donna Tartt || (but can be read without having read TSH)

By every metric that matters, Natalie Scatorccio should not have been admitted to Wiskayok Conservatory for The Arts. She didn’t have the test scores, or the tuition money, or any particular talent or ambition that might have made her a promising asset for a conservatory to acquire. She did have a drinking problem, a dead father, and no other option. So sure, why not art school? It was better than rehab. Or jail. 

let the light in 🖤 - Van/Taissa. Complete, WC: 5k.

“Take me home, please, Van.”

Taissa’s words are soft. Not a question, just a destination. They have always been heading here.

(Post finale getting-back-together fic)

Six of Crows / Shadow & Bone:

angelum mortis amo 🪽 - Jesper/Wylan. Complete, WC: 45k.

Jesper and Wylan are both hitmen from rival gangs. Wylan tries to kill Jesper. It goes about as well as you might expect.

(Featuring crazy-in-love Wylan Van Eck, flirting-at-gunpoint Jesper Fahey, and mob boss Kaz Brekker).

Show Me Yours 🐦‍⬛ - Jesper/Wylan. Complete, WC: 20k.

Wylan's past abuse hovers over him like a shadow. Jesper's gambling addiction binds him like a chain. But as they grow closer, it turns out secrets can melt like ice in the right kind of warmth.

(A character study of TV show-Wylan & Jesper & the way their backstories could factor into the progression of their relationship).

Stranger Things:

Star Star ✨ - Steve/Eddie (minor Chrissy/Robin). Complete, WC: 93K.

Rock band AU in which Robin, Eddie, Jonathan, Nancy, and Chrissy play in a band, and Steve has no choice but to hang out with the most annoying frontman in the world, Eddie Munson. Things escalate when they're forced to pretend they're in a relationship.

Modern AU, fake-dating (kind of).

I Buried a Hatchet (it's coming up lavender) 🪓 - Robin/Nancy (minor Steve/Eddie). Complete, WC: 60K.

Vecna nearly killed Robin before Nancy could take him out for good. Luckily, Robin's too stubborn to die, and Nancy's too stubborn to let her. Nursing her back to health, Nancy soon begins to question the feelings that almost losing Robin awoke in her.

In which Nancy has to do everything herself, compulsory heterosexuality is a bitch, and Robin Buckley is more charming than she thinks she is.

Harry Potter / Marauders:

Burn, Pine, Perish 🎶 - James/Regulus (minor Sirius/Remus). Complete, WC: 33k.

Sirius' family has magically forbidden him from dating anyone until Regulus finds a suitable pureblood partner. The problem is, Sirius is in love with a certain werwolf, and Regulus' romantic inclinations remain a mystery.

James, a pureblood, is nothing if not eager to help a friend.

AKA - A '10 Things I Hate About You' AU in which James attempts to woo Regulus so Sirius can have a chance with Remus.

Lonely Bones 🦴 - Draco/Hermione. Incomplete, on indefinite hiatus, I'm sorry, please stop asking me when I'm going to finish it, your guess is as good as mine, final answers is... sometime, probably, maybe?

Hermione Granger can't sleep. Draco Malfoy can't walk. The war is over, but it feels like it isn't. Neither of them are happy, but maybe the times together are better than the times apart. 

Draco is cursed in the battle of Hogwarts with unhealable bone fractures. Hermione is in desperate need of money to bring her parents back from Australia, and when Narcissa offers her a job attempting to cure Draco, she has no choice but to take it.

A League of Their Own:

It's Rotten Work 💐 - Jess/Lupe. Complete. WC: 10K.

Nobody's ever taken care of Jess McCready.

Not until she met Lupe García, anyway.

(In which Jess is oblivious, Lupe is romantic, and both of them are a little bit confused.)

Devour What's Truly Yours 🏴‍☠️ written in collaboration with the lovely @somebodytoundress - Jess/Lupe. Complete, WC: 37K.

Lupe Garcia had planned to go down with her pirate ship when it was raided by Spanish soldiers one dreadful night. Bleeding out on the deck, she accepted her fate—until an infamous ghostly captain with no name and a haunting face rescued her from the burning ship and nursed her back to health. With no ship, no crew, and no fortune, the solution is clear for Lupe. She‘s going to kill this captain and take over her crew so she may return to ruling the seas. And she’s definitely not going to fall in love with her.

Simply Elegant 🚬 - Jess/Lupe. Complete, WC: 7K.

Lupe is the most popular jock in school.

Jess is a burnout weed dealer.

Lupe goes to Jess to buy weed for a party, and things progress from there.

Bein' Good Isn't Always Easy ⛪️ - Jess/Lupe. Complete. WC: 32K.

The hottest part of summer, working in a guitar shop in the heart of Texas, Jess has the worst sunburn of her life. And she has the hots for the preacher’s daughter. She’s not sure which is worse.

Sing Me to Sleep 🌃 - Jess/Lupe. Complete. WC: 5K.

Lupe's past comes back to haunt her on the anniversary of an important date.

Jess tries to understand. They fall a bit deeper in love.

Slice of life.

Keep Your Electric Eye on Me, Babe ⚡️- Jess/Lupe. Complete. WC: 4K.

Five times Jess caught Lupe's eye when she shouldn't have + one time Lupe did something about it.

Fever With Thy Flaming Youth 🌡️ - Jess/Lupe. Complete. WC: 2.5K.

Estí gets the flu. Jess & Lupe take care of her.

FAQs

Can I translate your fic?

Please ask first! We can discuss details.

Can I bind/print your fic?

As long as it's legal and no one is profiting off of it, go wild, send pictures when you're done!

Why haven't you updated (insert fic)?

Either I lost interest in it for some reason, or I got really excited about something else & intend to return to it, or I have something personal going on & can't write as much. Sorry!

Can I make fan art of your fic?

PLEASE make fan art of my fic. Please send it to me when you're done so I can share it!!!!

[askblueandviolet]

[kittycatcorner]

shows up to give you the coffinchain challenge

Please be more careful when you cross the road You’re a perfect arrangement of rickety bones

Stray cats.

Peter had always likened the apprentices to a group of stray cats, in his mind.

At first it was out of distaste. They were a nuisance; a band of drifters slinking around the alleyways, catching their quarries unaware. The quick, sharp jab of a hypodermic needle might as well have been the efficient killing bite that a cat might deliver to the throat of its prey. They worked in the shadows, occupying all of those lonely abandoned buildings and reworking them for a new, twisted purpose. 

Then, begrudgingly, he’d found himself wrapped up in Mark Hoffman. Chasing him, hunting him, hellbent on bringing him to justice, then on killing him, then on understanding him, then…

Well, Peter didn’t know what he was doing now. 

All he knew was that sitting in his apartment, in varying states of composure, were three of Jigsaw’s disciples. 

Dr. Gordon sat on his couch, eyes trained down as his hands worked on bandaging a fresh wound on the arm of his younger accomplice. Stanheight sat quietly and allowed for the medical attention with little fight. Hoffman himself sat on the floor, back leaned against the couch close to the other two. 

Peter remained standing, trying not to buckle at the absurdity of his situation. In true stray-animal nature, he had made the mistake of allowing Hoffman into his home once, twice, thrice, and now he’d come back with friends. 

‘Don’t feed the strays’, indeed. 

Accept that he did know the other two, at this point. The polite Dr. Gordon was well-spoken and direct; Peter had found him infuriating in the beginning. He was a hard man to interrogate and an even harder man to intimidate, as level and unflinching as he was. Unlike Peter, he never seemed to let his anger get the best of him, and he seemed to know that. Dr. Gordon was a man who always seemed very aware of how much more control he had in the conversation. It was enviable. 

Then there was Adam Faulkner-Stanheight. Mouthful of a name. It was strange enough for Peter to wrap his head around the fact that the kid was alive, let alone working with Jigsaw. He was angry- had more rage in his scrawny little body than what felt possible. Stupid and impulsive, Peter had found him annoying. Just a petulant adolescent who had gotten himself into bigger trouble than he yet realized. 

They’ve come a long way since then. Both apprentices had grown on him, maybe because they reminded him of himself in their amalgamate qualities. The cold, callous bluntness of the doctor. The white-hot temper of the kid. The way he had never seen the former so gentle nor the latter so complacent until now, as they patched themselves together on his bloodied furniture. 

Peter had been reluctant to welcome them all inside. It was bad enough to shelter one serial killer, but now three? It reminded him that everything he’s been doing as of late is against what he once stood for. Fuck, it would solve a hell of a lot of his own problems if he didn't care. If he’d let them all rot, make them regret thinking that Peter would risk his own hide just because he's been friendly with them. Dr. Gordon and Stanheight had seemed to understand this too. Their expressions had been apprehensive, looking ready to flee like the animals they were. Peter wonders how long ago he would have given chase. 

Hoffman had spoken, then. 

“I didn’t-” His voice was shot and exhausted. “I didn’t know where else to go, Strahm.” 

And just like that, Peter took them in. Those words were all it took. Hoffman limped inside on a bad leg and described some sort of police-raid, premature. John Kramer and Amanda Young hadn’t even been there, so it had just been the trio, and they were forced to flee. Unable to go far on foot in their current state, Hoffman had brought his injured companions here. To Peter. 

Why did that make something strange stir within him? 

The three of them were soaked to the bone from the rain. Peter watched Hoffman sluggishly attempt to remain alert, but every so often his head would lull and come to rest against the soft thigh of Dr. Gordon. If the doctor noticed it, he didn't say a word as he continued to diligently work. He looked tired. Stanheight was putting on the best brave face he could manage, but Peter’s keen eyes caught his shoulders trembling, only eased when Gordon’s hand came to rest on one and rubbed gently. They all looked so tired. 

Unable to watch any longer, Peter finally broke the silence. 

“So why are you still doing this?” It took everything in him to not fidget idly as he spoke, brows furrowed at the three men. 

All eyes were on him quite suddenly, sharp as they regarded him. Three clever pairs of observant eyes that all screamed out ‘I know more than I’m letting on' to Peter. He held their gazes, muscled arms crossed over his chest. 

“You know what I’m talking about.” He scoffed, lip curling. “What’s the point of doing the old man's dirty work when he just lets things like this happen to you?” 

Silence.

Hoffman broke first. He laughed, eyes closing as he rested more fully against the couch. It was good-natured but ultimately dismissive. 

Dr. Gordon frowned at Peter, one brow quirked as if he had asked them something incredibly naive. Like he expected Peter to know already. 

Stanheight didn't react. Not outwardly, anyways. He only stared, something new and strange glittering in his eyes that Peter couldn't place.

“What,” Peter grit his teeth, an edge to his voice. Less of a question and more of a prompt. 

“Nothing, nothing. Apologies, Mr. Strahm.” Gordon sighed, turning his attention back to his handiwork. He appeared to nearly be done with the worst of Stanheight’s injuries now. “It’s just… not that simple.”

“Not exactly the kinda job you can put your two weeks in for.” Hoffman corroborated, a smirk tugging at his full lips. 

Peter felt his face burn hot, and he huffed in frustration. “You fucking- Don’t play dumb. Don’t act like it’s a stupid question. I’ll throw you back out onto the fucking curb.” He jabbed a finger at Hoffman in particular, who for his part did indeed shut his mouth. “You listening? Good. What I’m saying is that John Kramer is one demented old man. What is actually stopping you?” 

This time, the quiet was punctuated by Hoffman and Gordon exchanging an uncomfortable glance. After a moment, Hoffman shrugged and ran one hand through his damp, messy hair. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of, uh, checks ‘n balances.” 

Peter raised an eyebrow skeptically. Hoffman continued. 

“Information is power, etcetera. Kramer keeps basically everything on a need-to-know basis. Including, I dunno, who you’re workin’ with half the time. Hell,” He rolled his eyes, and lazily raised a hand behind his head to pat Gordon’s arm. The doctor made an annoyed noise in response, shifting away from him. “He only told me about these lovebirds when he needed help lookin’ after ‘em.” 

“I’m still mad about missing out on a trip to Mexico.” Stanheight quipped. His voice was softer than normal, but Peter supposed it was a good sign that he was speaking at all. He wasn’t used to the younger man being so quiet. 

Gordon straightened up a moment later, gently patting down the new bandages and brushing some of the hair from Stanheight’s face. “There you go.” He sighed. The warmth in his tone was so palpable that Peter had the distinct feeling it wasn’t meant for his ears. Despite being in his own apartment, he somehow felt he was intruding. “Get comfortable, alright?” 

Peter watched as Stanheight pulled himself to his feet, stopping short just a little ways away from him with an awkward shuffle. Gordon patted his thigh and spoke his next words like they took all of his energy to say. 

“Your turn.” He didn’t even bother to look at Hoffman. The detective grinned anyways, wasting no time in clamoring up into Gordon’s personal space and slinging his leg across the man’s lap. Gordon shook his head disdainfully, but carefully began rolling back Hoffman’s torn pant leg anyways. 

Peter guessed he wasn’t the only one that Hoffman lived to irritate.

“Christ, Mark.” Gordon sucked in a sharp breath, and Peter’s shoulders stiffened as he took a step forward to look. His stomach sank despite himself; from where he was standing Hoffman’s calf looked like a bloody mess. Peter’s a man who’s seen more gore in his line of work than anyone should hope to see in their lifetime, and yet here he is, staring in alarm. It was unlike him, and woefully he could only attribute his own uneasiness to the owner of the calf. 

As if he could read his mind, Hoffman looked up towards Peter. “Hey, it’s just-” He winced, hissing in pain as Gordon began to clean the wound. “It’s no big deal- no bullet inside. Just grazed me.” 

“You were shot?” Peter balked.

“Grazed,” Hoffman corrected. 

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose in a quick-rising frustration. Hoffman was impossible. 

“Don’t be an idiot.” Gordon’s voice was little more than a growl as he spoke through gritted teeth. “You took an unnecessary risk. Do you think I enjoy patching you back together? Honestly, if I didn't know any better I’d assume you were trying to get your sorry self killed.” 

Dr. Gordon’s tone left the detective bristling. “Don’t tell me how to do my job.” He scoffed. “Hell, I don’t bother you when you’re workin’ in the sickbay. Why don't you just- fuck!” 

Hoffman yelped at the unceremonious splash of disinfectant. Gordon gave him the sort of well-practiced fake smile that only a doctor could.

“My bad,” he murmured, unapologetic. 

Peter decided he’d seen enough. He turned on his heel and walked into the kitchen, telling himself that he was just stepping aside to get ice in case the doctor needed some. He knew it wasn't the truth, though; he scolded himself quietly as he leaned against the wall and ran a hand through his graying hair. 

The truth was that he couldn't keep standing there, staring at Hoffman’s leg injury. 

It’s ironic, because it feels like not too long ago that Peter would have done anything to put a bullet in Hoffman. Now the thought makes him feel… queasy. And a bit confused. 

Peter found himself comparing the apprentices to strays again.

He couldn’t get the image of roadkill splattered on the side of the highway out of his head. 

From what he knew of John Kramer and his cult, the apprentices were expendable parts. It doesn't even sound like they can trust each other half the time. One wrong move or fatal mistake would be all it took. Peter wasn't even sure how long it would take him to know something had happened. 

His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps so quiet that he knew exactly who they belonged to before turning around. Stanheight stood at the entryway of his bare-bones kitchen, watching him. He’s probably spent the least amount of time alone with him. 

“What is it?” Peter’s frown deepened.

The kid didn't answer immediately, instead coming to lean against the wall beside him. He was quiet for a moment, and then shrugged. 

“Wanted to check on you, I guess.” He answered simply. 

“Check on me? In what way do I need checking on?” Raising a brow, Peter gestured towards the living room. “Look at you three, for fuck’s sake.” 

Stanheight held his hands up defensively. “Hey, hey, I just- I get it, alright?”

Peter didn't know what that meant. He stared down at the shorter man, scowl ever-present, silently prodding him to elaborate. Stanheight’s expression was… almost sympathetic, but his eyes had that same strange look from before: the one that Peter couldn't place. 

The kid was easy to underestimate, Peter knew it from his file and from his current involvement. He wasn't about to make that mistake with him. 

“Sucks, doesn't it?” Stanheight finally said. He was muttering now, glancing once over his shoulder to ensure they were still alone. “One thing to know what they're doing and another to see them come back with blood and bits of their skin hanging off.”

Peter felt his stomach turn. “No,” he lied. “If Hoffman’s gonna be reckless and get himself killed then so be it.” 

“No matter what you or anyone else thinks, I’m not stupid.” Stanheight laughed dryly. “You don't gotta lie to me, okay? I’m on team Peter here.” 

“Are we forgetting that you’re one of ‘them’ too?” Peter steeled his gaze, unamused. 

Stanheight grimaced. “I mean- kind of. Not really.”

“‘Not really?’ What’s that mean?” 

“I- like- like I’m with them but I’m not one of them. Old Johnny-boy has never and will never give a shit about me. Not exactly in the running to be his heir or whatever the others think will happen.” Stanheight huffed, rolling his eyes as he explained. “Pretty sure he wouldn't even notice if I went missing if it weren't for the pictures ‘n schedules I go and get for him.”

Peter is quiet for a moment. 

“Why stick around?” He asked softly, already knowing the answer. 

The kid just snorted in lieu of answering, and the two fell into silence once more for a couple of seconds. 

“Glad that Mark has you.” Stanheight suddenly murmured, thoughtful. 

“He does not ‘have me’.” 

“Maybe you can knock some sense into him.” 

Peter scoffed, looking elsewhere. “You’re frustrating, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” Stanheight laughed, “I’m not kidding, though. It always freaks me out how Mark gets when he’s like…” 

Raising a brow, Peter waited for him to sort out his thoughts. 

“Like, when he gets hurt, right? He just- just runs off. Or he’ll go and get hammered on the other side of town and when we find him he’s a mess.” 

At that, Peter’s shoulders went rigid. He was aware of Mark’s habits, his unhealthy coping mechanism. He hadn't thought about who else might know, how deeply it might run. He hadn't thought about how often Mark must be alone. 

When he looked back at Stanheight, he realized the kid was staring at him intently. There was concern in his expression, but also something fierce. 

“John’s really messed him up. Worse than he was before all of this.” His voice was low, almost cautious. “All of them. Lawrence, Mark, Mandy, none of them deserve this. You know that, right?”

Peter’s mouth felt dry. “I…” 

Straightening up again, Stanheight stepped closer to Peter. Before he could see it coming, a smaller hand took his own and held it, inspecting it. “I think Mark needs you.” He said, “maybe all of us do. So you gotta take care of yourself too.” 

Something confused seemed to bloom in his chest then, an uncertain warmth that he could feel rise up to his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again when he couldn't decide on anything to say. 

“Just think about it, ‘kay?” Stanheight let go of his hand again and started to leave the kitchen, pausing for just a moment to look back at him. “Oh, one more thing.” 

“What is it?” Peter’s voice was hoarse. 

Stanheight gave him a grin that didn't meet his eyes. “Welcome to the family.” 

Then he was gone, Peter’s protest to that statement dying on his lips, and Peter was left to think on everything he said. 

Hoffman needing him. Hoffman hiding himself away in dark corners to nurse his wounds. Improperly set bones and too much bandage. 

Stray cats.

Peter’s family used to have cats. His sister’s cat had been an old, white, raggedy thing that she named Alfredo. When Alfredo passed away, he had hidden under the bed and refused to come out. Peter thinks he remembers reading somewhere that pets do that on purpose, so their humans don't have to see them die, but it's been years and his animal knowledge is limited. 

Peter wondered how hard it is to socialize a stray cat. To reintroduce it to domesticity. 

He stepped out of the kitchen, lingering at the entryway, and watched the apprentices from where he stood. Gordon seemed to have finished with Hoffman’s leg, speaking to him in a quieter tone than before. To his surprise, Hoffman looked like he was listening. Stanheight was on the couch with them now, leaning his head onto Gordon’s shoulder. 

Peter found that he wished he could freeze this moment with the three of them in it. The bubble of safety that was his living room felt far away from everything Jigsaw. Maybe they were always meant to be here, on soft furniture, and not crouching amongst rusted pipes and jagged metal. 

Tamed. Domesticated. 

He sighed through his nose and walked around the couch, three sets of clever eyes on him again as he caught their attention. Now that he was there, he could see that Dr. Gordon had just begun to wrap up Hoffman’s leg and he silently motioned to ask for the gauze, kneeling down between them.

Understanding the gesture, Gordon handed it over, smiling at Peter warmly enough to raise his body temperature by a degree. 

“Strahm-” Hoffman started, bewildered, but Peter simply began wrapping his leg neatly. 

“Shut up.” He grunted. “Let me help you, stupid.”

[masque-of-plague]

If you feel like you need "permission" to do something in fandom, this post is for you!

Something I've noticed a lot of in this fandom is that people hesitate so much to do so many wonderful things they want to do because they feel like they need someone else's "permission" in order to do it.

Understandably, there was a HUGE history of people dog-piling, harassing, and bullying people for doing things that were not explicitly approved by either the creators or the fandom at large. I am so happy that the tumblr fandom in particular has moved away from that horrible time, but the effects it had on people still linger, even beyond things that "weren't allowed."

So if you need permission to do something you've been thinking of doing, I'm giving you permission. 💕

Do you have an idea for a fan event but you need someone to tell you that you can? I'm telling you right now that not only can you start that fan event, but you will do a great job AND people will love it.

Do you have an idea for a fanfiction but you're worried that people won't like it? I'm holding your face gently and promising you that there is an audience for everything and if absolutely nothing else, you deserve to make that fic.

Do you have a headcanon that directly conflicts with common headcanons in the fandom? I support you having that headcanon. YES, even if other people dislike or even hate that headcanon. YES, even if some people are upset about that headcanon. It's their job to avoid that headcanon then-- it's not your job not to have it.

You deserve a space to be heard, to make your creations, to hold you headcanons. Anything that brings you joy, amusement, euphoria, validation, healing, catharsis, anything that you find interesting or enjoyable, you deserve to engage with it.

I promise you are capable. I promise you are not doing anything wrong. I promise you are not hurting anything.

Whatever you thought about while reading this post? I am giving you permission to do it.

[delta-orionis]

4. When iterators were more connected, did your iterator like to socialize on public broadcasts? Or did they tend to keep to their own group?

Three Stars Above Clouds has no local group, and is very far from any other iterators. Despite this, their high altitude allows them to listen in on long range public broadcasts. They rarely contribute, however.

TSAC will happily discuss their research with other iterators, but views them as colleagues more than anything else. As global communications broke down and they lost contact with their distant peers, their isolation only became more apparent.

(TSAC's vibe is basically, "lonely grad student whose only form of socialization is the weekly research group meeting".)

(Also a note- the orange overseer belongs to TSAC- the orange of the overseer forms a triadic color scheme with the blue of their puppet and the green of their accents.)

(Original ask game)

[chaos-potat]

All the drawing requests from today in one post

I'd still be willing to do this tomorrow or something, I should find another sheet too

Of course badly drawn blood warning for the alternative 2003 Leo

[herbgerblin]

this is going to sound a little unhinged but I love the way you render your art, the vibes always remind me of like, those clear and glittery pencil grips

As someone who used to love those sparkly grips and would have them on all my pencils this makes me very happy to read :3!! Thank you!!

[alrightbuckaroo]

Happy Friday, my loves! It's been a minute since I've seen this tag game go around and it's been even longer since I participated. Seems like the perfect time to change that. As always, please feel free to use this as a jumping off point for all the wonderful words that have been written. Don't stop with just this list!

Take my hand, take my whole life, too by @heartstringsduet

With each wrinkle, each scar, each crease, each spot, their rings, their hands tell the stories of their lives together.

throw me on a hurricane (i'll ride it to the coast) by ArsenicInYourPudding

This is, in fact, TK's first rodeo. Carlos is lucky that he's there anyway.

Protect me by Karaxuno

“It’s what you want, isn’t it?” TK asks, struggling for a second to find the words for what he wants to say, “Space to grow?” “With you, I’d take a closet.” Carlos teases, his fingers dancing away from his shirt sleeve and instead tracing up and down the line of TK’s jaw. “Been there, done that, let’s find a house.” TK grins, unable to stop the little laugh that bubbles in his chest. Or, post-S2-fire TK and Carlos look for a place together, and house shopping has its ups and downs.

Among my stillness was a pounding heart by @tailoredshirt

TK took a deep breath. “I think we need to talk about what happened last fall. With the loft.” Carlos’s brain was skipping around from one feeling to the next like a pinball. “With…when we broke up?” “Yeah.” “You…want to talk about the breakup,” Carlos said slowly. “While I’m proposing to you.” TK squeezed his hands. “Yes. Please.”

I hold onto the night you looked me in the eye and told me you loved me by @irispurpurea

"I have lost everything!" TK roars, and it feels so good. "Isn't that the whole point?" Or: It's the beginning of Season 4, and TK and Carlos are broken up again.

The Light of Our Life by @carlos-in-glasses

After an awkward conversation, Carlos buys TK a bearded dragon and fears it may be a parting gift (Coda for 4x12)

See Me (All of Me) by @bonheur-cafe

A fractured heart and a plea to be seen. Otherwise known as: the apology from his mom that Carlos never got, but deserves.

Make Me Laugh 'till I Die, I Stand Beside You With Pride by @lemonlyman-dotcom

A coda to the ending scene of 4x06. TK has a moment of insecurity; Carlos reassures him and, in the quiet safety of their bed, confesses an insecurity of his own.

tried and true blue by @reyesstrand

"She knows," Owen says, his eyes almost too sincere for TK to handle. He clamps his molars together and just stares at his father, because if he lets himself think too hard about all the ways his mom is still here, somehow, he'll probably burst into tears. Owen gives him a sad smile. "She does, TK. She used to talk about when you'd get married all the time." There's a pause, and TK curls his fingers tighter around his mug, letting everything simmer between them. "When I got married," TK quietly repeats. "Not if?"

and because there's a new chapter on the way, I'm going to recommend my shameless collection of smut, something to give each other (things are about to get so casual)

No pressure tagging everyone above and:

@captain-gillian, @carlos-tk, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @basilsunrise, @butchreyes

@nancys-braids, @never-blooms, @mikibwrites, @lightningboltreader, @herefortarlos

@honeybee-taskforce, @guardian-angle22, @freneticfloetry, @fifthrideroftheapocalypse, @strandnreyes

@sheholdsthemoon, @actual-sleeping-beauty, @whatsintheboxmh, @welcomehometk, @reasonandfaithinharmony

@welcometololaland, @eclectic-sassycoweyes, @rmd-writes, @thisbuildinghasfeelings, @theghostofashton

@orchidscript, @paperstorm, @emsprovisions, and of course here's an open tag for anyone who just wants to share!!

[ask-big-eyed3]

HEYA!

SOOO TODAY IM ASKING SMTH!!

Do you care about the SMG4 crew? (With pure honesty)

And I hope you still feel okay since Terrance's death...!

With pure honesty, huh? Well...

I...

I really miss them, I'll be real

[cozystars]

Made More!

Transcript under the CuUuuUt

Princess Daisy - Joyful gem of the Desert, Daisy took the position of Sarasaland's ruler due to her parents dedicating their time to preserving their culture found in other worlds. She does her best to keep things together. +Exuberant =Curious -Presumptuous Lover of all things sporty, Diplomatic Besties w/ Peach

---- An odd pair that found solace, family even, in their shared goal of supporting eccentric lifestyles through any means necessary. -

Waluigi-(real name unknown) +Virutuoso =Dedicated -Self-hating An infamous micro-celebrity known for his love of sports, soaps, and taking the spotlight. - Wario-(WHO THE @*%! IS MARIO?) +Efficent =Robust -Self-Centered Willing to do the odd, tough jobs no one in their right mind would take to keep his precious ride in check.

[transmascutena]

Favorite Utena & Anthy domestic hcs?

sorry this took a while to answer, i've been pretty busy! not all of these are necessarily domestic, just general hcs about their future, hope that's alright :)

they live in an apartment full of plants (no roses) and they dream of one day getting a small house with a garden in the backyard.

they learn how to cook and both really enjoy it. they use their own home-grown herbs and spices, and when they one day do get that garden, they'll grow vegetables too.

anthy attends a local university studying 5 different things at the same time because she likes to learn and keep busy. she also has a million different hobbies, her favorites of which are writing poetry (she has at least one very ciritcally aclaimed collection published), painting (she often asks utena to model for her) and gardening (again, no roses)

utena refuses to ever go to school again and works instead. i don't really know as what but i think it'd be funny if she was a car mechanic. she isn't able to play sports for a long time due to her injury, but she eventually takes up fencing as a hobby (she's unsure of it at first, but realizes that despite everything, she did genuinely enjoy swordfighting. and she has always admired juri's skill and technique.)

they have a car (pink, of course, though utena wonders why it has to be that particular color. anthy just brushes it off as it being her favorite and utena indulges her) that they'll occasionally go on road trips in. anthy loves driving and travelling, the ability to go anywhere. she's been all over the world before reuniting with utena and their goal is to visit all the places she stayed, together. she's also an incredibly reckless driver and utena always kind of fears for her life whenever they go anywhere. but in like a fun way

one day anthy brings home a stray cat that she named nanami. utena protests to this half-heartedly but inevitably agrees. nanami and chu-chu have a fierce rivalry over utena and anthy's affection, even though they both get plenty

they still hold hands every night when falling asleep, but they're sharing a bed and are right-side up from each other now :)

it's not perfect. they both struggle with love and trust after everything. sometimes anthy will bottle up everything she's feeling until she snaps, or sometimes utena will snap first out of frustration. they always feel bad and apologize and cry after a fight, but there's just a whole lot of pain and guilt and betrayal in their past, and not all of it goes away just because they're free of akio.

[canisalbus]

I've followed your art for I think a handful of years now across a few accounts/platforms and while I always admired and love your art, i just wanted to say how much I ADORE your Vasco and Machete art. They bring me so much joy and I keep sending them to my girlfriend who isn't on Tumblr. I love learning more about them!! I love seeing them interact!!! I want to know more but I'm awful at coming up with Good Questions so also a big thank you to the other people prompting more art and info about them!!

That's so sweet, thank you! I'm glad to hear you like them! ;_;

Somehow it always makes me just a little bit emotional when people tell me they're showing my art to their non-tumblr friends and family.

[lesbiankordian]

aromantic thoughts

in one book about transness i read, the author said that even if you go through transition, even if you accomplish everything trans related you wanted, the feeling, the years, of sadness and alienation just don't go away and are always somewhere deep inside you. you may still compare yourself to cis people and still not feel enough. even if transphobia magically evaporated, your transness wouldn't - even if you had a perfect life with no transphobic incidents.

and it's exactly the same with aromanticism. i generally feel good. but there are days where i just can't understand why i can't feel the same way as other people do. why i can't understand that one (supposed to be universal) beautiful poem about love. why most people's values are a bit different than mine. why i can't be truly happy in a queer club, because there are people in love everywhere and my friend's talking to me about her love problem with a guy and the people next to me are all flirting with each other and a girl's hitting on me but i'm afraid bc she'll probably stop when i say "hey, i don't wanna go on a date. ever. but we can kiss if you want". (don't even know if i actually like doing that).

many times i feel like that while talking about friends. life. attitude, not necessarily towards relationship things. it doesn't have to be anything romantic. bc romance as a norm goes so deep you're reminded everyday you're different, and that your difference - if you show it to others - is a rather bad thing in their morality spectrum. everytime i think about that i wonder if i'm not confusing aromanticism with sth different, but i do think aromanticism falls under that category too.

the author of the book i mentioned said that when she first realized she was trans, she was terrified of the thought that was how her life was gonna look like - after all those awful years, it'd only go downhill (realization, transition process etc), this time bc of her own actions. similarly, i know the way i live now is the best for me (probably). but i do that deliberately. i could stop anytime and try to go against myself, caring for someone the way my friends seem to be able to. i long for that, simultaneously knowing i wouldn't last a minute.

[semi-dailykaisatou]

kai if he was in samurai yaiba or another band?

First of all DAMN I AM SO SORRY this has been in my inbox for monthsssss I got annoyed with my clothing designs initially so I just dropped this and forgot about it I got around to it finally though but then I kept forgetting I never posted it on here

Something makes me the like the messy original sketch more though...

I think I'd like to redraw Samurai Kaiba again...

[watercolor-hearts]

Formula 1 cardiophile* headcanons

Based on certain drivers (George and Lando) talking about their hearts, and my friend, @starlightiing and I adding our own thoughts to it and identifying them as certain cardiophile types purely for fun because we're both cardiophiles and we like talking about these things.

[*Cardiophile: Someone that has a heartbeat kink. It can be either sexual or non-sexual. In this post I'm going to talk about the non-sexual side of this kink.]

George

George is very interested in his fitness, his heart rate in many scenarios, he's interested in how his body works, so I think George is the type of cardiophile that really appreciates their own heart, works out to keep it healthy, tracks its activity on their smart watch and health app on their phone, and gets it checked out frequently to make sure it's healthy. He's the sporty cardiophile that takes heart and cardiovascular health really seriously.

Based on:

this article about George talking about his heart rate changes during sleeping at different places while traveling to races,

and he also mentions hearts/heart rate here twice: How F1 Drivers Train in the Gym,

here at 2:02: Formula 1 drivers answer 7 racing questions,

and a chest touch here: George reading a fanbook.

Lando

Lando talks about his heart so much, he's so in tune with it and because he talks about it really naturally, I think he's the casual, cute cardiophile that doesn't panic when he has to mention hearts, he actually enjoys talking about them.

He's basically like this in some of his interviews: “My heart is beating, isn't that nice? I can feel it. I like feeling it. It's really fast when I'm racing. I like talking about my heart. I like my heart, it's doing a really good job keeping me alive.” And I think it's adorable.

Based on Lando talking about his heart in these videos:

In the beginning here: Monaco GP 2021 post-qualifying,

from 5:25 here: Lando Norris Reacts to Formula 1: Drive to Survive (Season 1 - 4),

from 1:18 here: Chinese GP 2024 post-sprint qualifying,

twice in this interview: Imola GP 2024 post-race

in this interview,

from 0:23 here: Oscar Piastri and Lando Norris work together as compact co-pilots,

and here's a cute ‘chest touch with both hands/both hands on his heart’ moment in this video: Lando about the collaboration with Herend Porcelain

If you know about articles or videos about drivers talking about their hearts, them being on heart monitors for challenges or anything, please send it to me, I'd really appreciate it because in the future I'd like to expand this post by adding more drivers. 😊

Also, if you're a cardiophile (or if not but you're interested in this topic) and you have your own headcanons about drivers' hearts (or some thoughts on this post), feel free to share them with me in an ask (or private message). With this post, from now on I'm open to talk about these things (in connection with any drivers, any pairings and sexual and non-sexual cardiophilia too), and I'd love to get to know more cardiophiles in this fandom.

[uniquevoidflowers]

Who needs hugs today?

I offer hugs, cookies, and rambles.