#inspo hit for a new edit <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[inafieldofdaisies]

Ship edit | The Diviner and The Baptist | vol. 1 / vol. 2 / vol. 3 / vol. 4

"I desire you. I burn for you. I can’t sleep at night for wanting you. Even when I didn’t like you, I lusted for you. It’s the most maddening, beguiling, damnable thing, but there it is." - Julia Quinn

I have been envisioning an edit for John x Sabrina with that kind of pose for ages and yesteday I finally found the perfect reference image. Half a day, lots of editing and occasional prayers to the Photoshop Gods later, we have a finished product. Have to say, I just love how the graphic turned out. <3

Did i spent way too long looking for the perfect background (that i further edited too) to match the Seed ranch... totally. But it's so worth it.

and as tradition, a song to go with the edit

[chlmtsdoll]

Guys I loved writing the first short n sweet inspo fic so here’s more bc that ovulation album is too good <3

WHERE ART THOU ? WHY NOT UPONETH ME ?

౨ৎ Summary: your hosting a slumber party at Art’s mansion. But you can’t quite stay away from your pull to get the man in a room where there are no others. Inspo from Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter 🤍

+ 18 | very much smut !, unprotected sex, age gap, (reader early 20’s) dilf!Art, size kink, first daddy kink fic (omg) semi-public sex, oral (f) reviving, pet names, this made me feel a bit slutty just writing it, needy!reader, fatherly Art ;)

A/N: the fucking edits on tiktok of Mike to Bed Chem are making me go insane ! just when I thought there was no possible way for me to be crazier over this man omfg. So I had to give the girls a fic to go w it ofc <3

It was like fate. The day you met him.

Nothing could of been more perfect when the stars aligned to bring you to accompany your solid group of trust fund friends to one of his tournaments that evening. You were like most girls your age, makeup, pop music, nice ornaments for your wardrobe — you weren’t the kind of girl that could say she knew much about sports, and certainly little to nothing to be caught landing a seat at the us open... but eventually that grew to be a substantial part of what found him to be so drawn to you.

It was that day when you’d been in the bleachers watching the blonde play like it was his life’s greatest prophecy. For the first time in your still too little years of living, you’d never felt that aroused by a man you’d only saw from the mere view of him hitting a ball with a racket.

But he was unearthly.

Built like how men used to be. Face like it came straight from heaven. Serve like he knew a thing or two in bed.

You were drunk on want, need for him. You were damn lucky your friends were loaded enough to go to all the after parties with most of the star athletes. It was insane to you that you would follow the vip and your most sports driven friends (enthusiast if you will.) to where the elites spend their time. You wanted a nice hang out. Good food. Expensive drinks. But it was between you and the universe that you’d leave with so much more.

You were in a sheer dress and kitten heels when he spotted you. Just his star studded sly smile from across the event hall, when he saw you and your friends conversing in mostly a pretentious manner like most kids your age did when they could afford the lifestyle most people only dreamed of. But not you, you were entranced, pulled away. By his wide, blue eyes that you assumed filled with the same yearn you’d been struck with. And to your quick manifest, Art was gazing right back at you.

Only sharing a couple brief exchanges with the tall and stature, modest but kindly — beautiful and magnetic man around mutual friends, before you’d both been rushed to leave. Him with his team, and you with your entourage.

Like that you were tied to the tennis star in the blink of a moment. And Soon enough — being photographed with him around the heat of the city.

Games, athlete dinner parties, press events. Even photos of you two sharing more than a couple of words, maybe even kisses, behind menus at glamorous rooftop restaurants. Magazine outlets went crazy through the roof in just a few weeks time. Milking whatever they could out of Art Donaldson and his controversially younger girlfriend.

They didn’t have enough tabs on what you two had officially been to one another and that was perfect for the two of you. Because now that time has pushed you and the blonde closer and more into each other — you’d spend days and nights locked away with Art in his new found mansion post his former divorce. Home so beautifully articulated and big enough for you to be extra generous with your time with the dream boat of a man.

It would go down in history what the two of you had done in every room.

Now, a gorgeous weekend ahead of you after your week that was always filled with Art treating you to the finest cooked dinners, at home date nights filled with breezy smiles and full closeness to balance your dates out on the town. Going wherever you felt just to hold hands under umbrellas and traffic lights. With all the new adorned love in your life, and man with too much mystic taking up your time, it had been a good minute since you saw your girlfriends, caught up or shared a drink. You were just so wound up in Art and the way he treated you like a princess to, and in your own world.

So you’d asked Art if you could host a sweet little sleepover for you and your girls at the mansion — and of course he complied. It was anything for his perfect girl since the beginning.

“I could ask the chef to whip up some,” Art spoke into you as he held your hips in his vast hands running carefully over the hem of your satin bottoms as you stood in the middle of the spacious kitchen with him.

“That’s okay, I wanna do it.” You laughed softly, as you stared up at the man. “Nothing says fun girls night like making our own home made friandises”

Art had tilted his head in slight confusion with eyes in question to your tone when you’d practice what you’d been learning in your French courses on him. It was all the most adorable to you really. Your laugh echoed.

“Treats, baby.”

“I- - I knew that,” He scoffed and your giggles were infectious with delight to him.

“It’s gonna be fun. We’ll watch movies, paint our nails, share snacking tips. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the girls.”

Art grinned at the way you lit up with excitement, and his icy eyes looked down at your figure below him. He tried not to bite down on his lip at the way you were in the pajamas usually he only saw you in. Pink lace two piece jammies. Completely recognized because he got them for you. The transparency to them was way too easy on the eyes.

Arts tongue darted out to wet his lips before he questioned, “Is that what you’re wearing ? There aren’t gonna be any boys.. right ?”

“No, silly. That of course counts out you — if.. you wanna join us.” You looked up at him through your lightly mascara coated lashes, it felt as if the flirtatiousness through your gaze just hooked Art by the belt.

“No, no. I’ll give you and your friends your space, doll.” The blonde gave you a chary little smile, “I really doubt they’d want an old man around while you’re trying to have fun.”

“Quit it ! You’re not old. And they adore you.” You stood on the tips of your toes, Art met you so you could leave a sweet kiss on his cheek, with a blush to your own.

“Thank’s for letting me have this little party, baby.”

“Course, what else would be better use for all this space ? Other than for the amusement of twenty something girls.”

Art chuckled and you surely were in agreement, because when your girlfriends did arrive it was immediately shrieks of girlish camaraderie and chatter of awe as you brought them around the place of posh and eloquent nature. Your laugh could of been heard from the other side of the place where Art had eventually been stored away for the night while your hands were knee deep in cookie dough and rainbow sprinkles. Pj sets all from the brands you and your friends never stopped talking about. Having your night filled with reruns of classic movies to sipping champagne.. and the wine, red, (your pick) was certainly slipping through you as the moments went on.

You’d been with your best friend when you two had a moment alone to catch up in one of the halls of the buoyant abode. Whispers and giggles coming from between the two of you as a glass of wine hung from your palm.

“God, he was a such a cutie.” She coo’d as you two had found a very special wall of framed photos of Art from back in his prime tennis days. The blonde around your age who seemed filled with joyfully energetic faces and awards from across the globe. A smile woke upon your face as you folded your arm to admire the man you’d now call your own.

“Sometimes I wish I’d known him then,” you simpered. “But I’m beyond lucky now. Because he’s still cute, and sexier.”

You tittered fondly and your friend laughed with you as she playfully tugged on your shoulder. “You gotta lock that down, y’know… you’ll be like- - hella famous just from being a world class tennis superstars hot young wife.”

She announced as she sipped on something burgundy and you thought with a heightened grin. She couldn’t have been farther from right. And as the months go by you would fall farther and farther head over heels for Art every day. You’d be his wife in an instant. That was the dream after all, and you could certainly say you’d been living one.

“I guess I’ll just have to wait for him to put a ring on it..” You smiled with a dazed shrug as you embarked your wine glass to your lips again.

“He better.” Your friend chirped with a proud glint and you couldn’t help but stay stuck in your thought of your boyfriend who’s been just a few rooms away for the past couple of hours while you’d been enjoying all the perks of your girls making the most of their time with you. But you couldn’t help but want Art to be nearby now, and the red wine in your system maybe hit more than just your head — you couldn’t even try to fight it.

You missed your man.

So after you’d take in a few more drinks and a bit sensually themed games with your friends, you’d made your attempt escape off to find Art. Slipping away from the girls was easy when you’d have every necessity needed to execute a very graceful grown up girl sleepover provided for them.

You’d been walking down the hall heading to where his office and master bedroom would be at the end of the home, and as you passed by the lush kitchen area, to your surprise, there he was. Muscles looked enchantingly delicious in this light as they flexed to pull on the fridge handle and when he turned, his eye line met your glance staring back his way (of course you’d both arrive at the same time.) Arts lips began to curl in an amours grin when he saw your petite figure making it’s way over to him with the same like of smile across your face.

“Hi, baby. You having fun?” He glanced down at you through his blonde lashes to meet your nod, only following up with a soft titter as you stepped closer to the man. He almost immediately picked up on the lust laced within your eye and the way you slightly leaned onto the fridge door with your aura basically gooing with sex at him now. The blonde had an eyebrow furrowed as he chuckled just a bit and he sized you up.

“Are you drunk, princess?”

“No. No… no,” you shook your head.

It had been true. You weren’t drunk. But a little wine tipsy and horny ? Definitely.

Art hummed and put the back of his hand to your forehead gently as he observed your state. “Did you eat?”

“Mhm, did you ?”

“No. That’s why I came down, not to stalk you. I promise.” The man laughed, to which you did as well and you only raised your arms so they could embrace your boyfriend’s shoulders with a soft hum.

“Y’know, if you’re hungry, you can eat me.” Your finger tips grace Arts neck unashamed as you smile into the crook, and he took in a breath, proceeding to hold you close.

“Oh- -” his chuckle matched your giggle as he noticed you’d changed again. His hands were gliding up the ruffle of the even more transparent sheer cover on you’d been dressed in. Lime tinted. The shorts were near pantie like.

“Mmm, I miss you, I want you.” You peppered kisses as close as you could to his earlobe from your height and Arts breath hitched as he was weak to your slow but enticing touch to him. Fogging up his knowledge that you’d been right in the middle of the open kitchen that was just a few ways down from the living area your friends had been in.

“Here, sweetness ? Your friends- -” Art murmurs down to your ear, but you just locked your arms just above his shoulders without a care.

“And- - ? What about them ? I need you,” you whined. “I want your touch.”

“Yeah? You want me to touch you?”

You nodded again with a naughty giggle and the blonde was smirking now, his hands roamed your body. Large and groping your curves. As much as he knew what was rightful, Art just couldn’t deny your cling to him in that damn near lingerie that had him going almost unbearably hard beneath his jeans since you walked in. Feral even. It was beginning to get miserable as you pressed your dainty chest against his, he felt your nipples grow hard and sensitive against the cloth. So into his aroma, presence, like you were a moth to a torch.

He’d fallen into your pecks merging with his now. Kissing you against where the cupboards stand like your lips were candy. Your small legs stumbling as the man towered over you “Fuck, you look amazing in that set.” Art pulled away from your plump lips to view your gorgeously perfect body. You batted your lashes once. And his attain just couldn’t be stopped. Art slid his hands across your soft ass cheeks, massaging and kneading it in his palms before leading up to laying a solid smack which made you hiss out an excited squeal-like giggle. Your fingertips slid down his ample biceps brushed with virile bristles of hair.

“If I had known you’d like this set so much, I would of worn it much sooner for you.”

Art leaned into you and he held a sly smirk, “this was your plan all along, yeah? Wearing that to get my attention so I would come out here and fuck you in the middle of your slumber party.. you’re such a naughty girl.”

You only giggled more into his skin with a slow exhale, your freshly painted french tips exploring him as he explored you. Art took his sweet time just feeling the way your ass jiggled in his palms and you felt like you’d been going weak in the knees before his tender contact turned rough when he turned you around without warning, making you gasp.

Art made sure you could feel how hard you’d gotten him as he pressed himself to your core. Facing the counter, you lost yourself in complete bliss just to the feeling of not knowing where he’d pleasure you next — Arts restrained bulge against your clothed cunt was just something else. The blonde pushed up your sheer top just a bit and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, you made a soft noise with it.

“Feel what you do to me, pretty girl.” Art nibbled on your earlobe and you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip to subtle your smile. His hands bracing your hips as he stared down at your lacy panties and your minx-like eyes followed Arts famished expression while he licked his bottom lip.

“All yours, daddy.” Your sweet voice immediately made Art go nearly lightheaded and that was it. He melted.

The man tucked both his thumbs into the fabric and pulled your panties down clean with raucousness, followed up with him getting down on his knees before spreading you with his palms and your hands reached for the marble with a soft whimper.

“That’a girl, stay open for me.. Let me taste you.” Art huffed out before he pushed one of your legs up on the counter and you breathed out at the feeling of him making your body his toy for amusement. Art took his fingers and ran them up your folds, getting them wet with the slick of your pussy. Your cheeks started to heat up just at the wonderful pad of his index running against your core like that , making you let out a soft, “oh..” by the way he moved to rub around your clit. Arts lips kissed on your exposed inner thighs, and your jaw became unlocked extraordinarily far when his tongue finally rolled on the soft tissue.

He was splitting you clean open on the counter as tiny whimpers escaped your throat. You were lost in the draw you had to the man making you feel surpassing of even the way you played it all out in your head. “Mmm, yeah- - yes” you panted and the man flicked his digit over your bud at the same time he’d been making out with your cunt. Letting deep groans flow throughout your opening. You’d been on the tip of your toes for him. Letting him suck where you pulsed till you’d been overstimulated if he wanted.

Your head had been spinning from the friction of his perfectly sculpted nose rubbing against your sensitive area. Art was known to be gifted with his mouth so much so, you almost wondered if your friends would have heard if you just couldn’t keep your moans level — but with the way Art held your hips, fucked his tongue into your cunt like you’d been his last meal, your anxiousness washed away. All you could do was let the shake of your thighs and Arts dripping oral member lead you to a crisp pleasurable cry.

“Shit,” Art took a brief exhale as he pulled away from your entrance, dampened lips of your juices going wide with a grin and he ran his palms over your slick thighs again,

“you’re so fucking wet for me, princess. You gonna take my dick? Let me make you feel good?”

“Mmm, please. Fill me up, Art. I wanna feel you.”

“You gotta be quite for me, baby.” Art stood to his feet.

You didn’t care. All you could think about was dick. Arts phenomenal dick. You wanted him to toss you over and split you open till you were sobbing on his thick member, your wine drunk friends would understand. A girl has her needs.

The risk made your blood pressure rise as the moment went on, when Art reached over you to tug your panties dangling from your thighs all the way down — he kicked them off to the side. Taking note of his own belt buckle and undoing it quickly, which you only grew more greedy by the sound of him unzipping his fly. The blondes aquamarine orbs swam with the need to pump you fuller than you’d ever taken him.

“Bend over for me, sweet girl..” Art breathed out softly as his slightly calloused hands ran from your hip up your spine while you did so, bending over fully and displaying your sweet dripping cunt for the mans lidded eyes. He sucked in his breath and his now aroused dick twitched when it unveiled from his boxers — going barmy with just how tiny and soft you looked beyond him.

“So fucking tight and small- - your amazing with the way you take me when I barely fit in, sweets.”

You bit down on your finger as you watched Art run his hands over your ass. Take your hips and line his cock up with your hole. He hissed at the way your soaking cunt wet his tip, you almost croaked out a deep moan at his gestures to tease your pussy. Just nodding along as you’d gone cock drunk before he’d even been in you. Your nails run at the marble counter as Art slowly burrowed into your drooling core. Working you open as his cock disappeared into your body inch by inch — he pushed your thigh higher onto the ledge as you whined at the stretch.

“Ah.. mmm- - fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groaned as you adjusted to the size of his warmth finally filling you full. Art was big. And he’d never want to put you, his sweet doll in discomfort for long, never. So when he started to plunge into you, he watched as your face scrunched up from ache to pleasure in time. His name sputtering from your mouth as you clawed at the counter top and he watched your pussy lips that were just throbbing around his erection like it was begging to be so sporadically fucked by him.

“That’s it baby doll,” his own groans heightened as his hips knock into your cervix, chasing that spot of yours till you were moaning and whimpering like a slut around him. Hole so full with yours and his pre-cum and you sucked in your bottom lip, tussled hair going wild on your back. You just had to look over your shoulder to watch him — see Arts gorgeous face as he snapped against you all shimmering with light sweat as he focused on the way a ring of your wetness pooled around his base.

“You love this, hu? Getting me to fuck you while your friends carry on without you- - At your party. But you just had to come.. looking for daddy’s cock, yeah? You love being a dirty, dirty girl for me.” Art rasped as he clenched his jaw with the overwhelming feeling of your tight cunt clenching him. It made your skin feel like it had been sparked with fire, so exhilarated. He put his hands in your hair to fuck into you as your jaw dangled open.

“Oh! F-fuck! I needed that big fucking dick, daddy… w-want you to cum all over me, mmm- -” you were choking out whimpers and your pretty little hole dripped with Arts pre-seed slipping from you, making it drag out when he pulled out of your pussy to turn you around and pick you up in one swift motion. Your high pitched gasp echoed as you wrapped your legs around the mans abdomen and Art set you on the counter. His lips curl up into a smirk and his eyes met your wide doe set ones. Slipping back into you he watched you cry out his name. Rutting into your heavenly body at this angle, hands go squeezing your thighs, and Art kept them apart as he took you at a wild pace. Hitting that gooey spot till you didn’t remember your own name. “Good fucking girl. That’s it- - such a sweet thing for me, taking all of my cock. It was made for you, doll.”

You couldn’t even catch your self as you’d leaned back on the counter and let Art pound into you. Your tits bounced with each thrust and you were shuttering as your orgasm ripped through you without warning. “Yes ! Ooh- - shit, yes yes yes…” you were whining out as you came on Arts dick. He held your legs spread as he grunted and watched you soak him uncontrollably. You loved it. Feeling like his perfect little gift. Art licked over his lips at the sight of your beauty, throwing your head back in bliss, he pulled out of you and pushed up your dainty little baby doll top — making space as he pumped his throbbing dick over your stomach till he himself came hard. Ropes shooting out on your candescent skin and making sure some got on your pussy just for the fun of it, he grinned and trailed his thumb up your gentle inner calf that had been dangling by his side.

You were whimpering like you’d gotten your brains fucked out to the sweetest soundtrack you’d ever heard. Art was so cinematic in moments like these, he leaned up to kiss at the nape of your neck, cheek, and lips.

“Pretty, perfect girl.. I love you.” Your gentleman muttered against your mouth. You smiled and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as Art brought your panties up to help you slip them back over your thighs and to your feet as steady as you could. Dressing himself as well, he glanced down at you through his hooded eyes to see your impressively only slightly disheveled state. You were just always glowing, it was hard to make that go away anyways.

“You sleeping down here tonight?” Art buckled his pants again as he questioned you with a soft raised brow. You started to smirk at the way he was heading. You shrug.

“Maybe, maybe not… I’ll sneak into your room when they’re sleep, if you want.” You offered the man, the glint in your eye saying you’d suck his cock and let him have you in as many different positions as he’d like in a couple hours till you were all tapped out. The blonde only scuffed and towered over your presence that was still taken by your hoyden attitude, just to turn you back towards the doorway.

“Go host your party.” he taunted almost fatherly, to then leave a light slap on your ass that made you giggle on the way out.

[stillgotme]

Been pretty quiet the past month and I don't know if there's really anyone that's still stuck around to see what I do next, but I'm still here! And the reason I haven't been posting as much is because I've been planning and I’m here to make some quick announcements for how 2024’s gonna go on this blog moving forward.

First things first....Karaoke Secrets is going on hiatus and this was what I was embarrassed to say because this story has barely taken off yet I’ve already had two big gaps in between posts and we still haven’t gotten anywhere. Oof. 

I admit, I kinda went overboard with adding a third story when I haven’t even finished the other two. Not to mention, because this one was more driven by fun and me needing a break from my usual stuff, I’ve faced the realization that this story isn’t as developed. It’s why I unfortunately hit a creative wall with it and along with the struggle of trying to do 3 stories at once, my inspo just isn’t with it at the moment. 

Don’t get me wrong, though, I still very much love this story! But I gotta really sit down and figure out an outline for it. I do prefer some sort of structure and I don’t have the full structure yet, so it’s best to put this thing to halt and see what I really want to do with it. Maybe one day when I’ve gotten the inspiration again and I’ve tightened some rough spots, then I can come back to it. For now, it’s on a break. And don’t worry, you will still see Risa and Akira every once in a while when I do some edits. I hope you understand.

BUT NOW THE GOOD NEWS:

AFTER FOUR LONG YEARS, REDEMPTION IS FINALLY MAKING A RETURN. Now, despite my lack of storytelling since the pandemic, I’m letting you all know that in the background I never actually stopped writing. I was still going over scenes for this story, writing dialogue, even going back to old scenes and writing in depth prose for them to get more in touch with my characters. 

This story is so dear to me and the inspiration has called me for the past few months. And thanks to the lovely people in the writing discord I’ve joined, that storytelling spark has finally come back. What held me back was the worry over Karaoke Secrets, but I needed to stop forcing myself to treat this like a job and follow my inspo. 

So we’re picking up where we left off. To new and old readers, I will do a summary post that tells you the story so far. I understand not everyone has the time to sit down and read and you are in no way obligated to do that so you’ll have the option to get a recap. That way we’re all on the same page by the time the story returns. And if you do wanna read from the beginning, be my guest!

Thank you to everyone that’s taken the time to read this and stick around. I understand I’ve been so messy with storytelling lately because of real life, but it really feels different now. I’m genuinely excited to get back to telling this story that’s been in my head since 2018 and hope you’ll join me in this crazy journey (again). And shoutout to the writing group for giving me the motivation. It may not have seemed like much, but your support has led me to fully get my storytelling back out there. 

I love you all 💖

[inkluvs]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ivy’s 200 cafe ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

hiii in honor of hitting 200 on my new blog + the fact that i’m finally done w academia (until september) i offer you guys this celebration thingie <3 send in as many as you'd like <3 if anything has ++ in front of it, it is an add on !! you do not have to send events in with an add on but feel free to . reuploads for blurbs / fics will still be posted every mon / wed / fri !!

edit: shit i forgot to say that this has no set end date !! it’ll probably go on for a week or so <3

nav // masterlist

・❥・ hot chocolate — moodboards (aesthetics, colors, etc.) !!

++ marshmallows — (4 moots) send me this and i’ll make you a moodboard based on how i see you

++ cinnamon stick — send me an au + a character and i’ll make a moodboard

++ candy cane — send me a character + a situation and i’ll make a moodboard

・❥・smoothie — (4 moots) i’ll write u a little note <3

・❥・ tea — send me a blurb request / headcannon (inspo here and here)

・❥・coffee — send me an idea / concept and i’ll make you a playlist (dresses in fields in fields of flowers, light academia, etc)

++ caramel — (4 moots) i’ll make you a playlist based on how i see you

++ creamer — send me a character + a situation and i’ll make you a playlist

・❥・croissant — games !! (cym, would u rather, this or that)

@amoraffairs @arakhnee @bcyhoods @berryfairy444 @bimbobaggins69 @bpdtistic @bruisedboys @cauliflowertree @deermessrs @doyouknowwhoyouare13 @emmyshortcake @faeriieblush @fxllfaiiry @forevermoreharrington @ghostlyfleur @headkiss @heartfairy @illicitfixations @imabee-oralizard @juneberrie @just-another-lovesong @katsu28 @letterstotheflre @lofaewrites @loverliner @livingintheupsidedown @luveline @maddipoof @maximoffwxnda @meredarling @my-my-only-angel @oncasette @on-my-contrarian-sh1t @queerpumpkinnn @rosemaremembrance @sanguineterrain @schoopsahoy @sexybabystevie @shefollowedthestars @skullrock @softcoremaybank @solarluvs @spaceagebachelormann @spideystevie @sp1rit-realm @stardustmunson @starstruckwillows @stevesbabysittingservice @stvharrngton @sweet-villain

[theprisonerandthebeast]

hello, i'm very new on tumblr and i don't know how to do anything but here goes; i will be forever in your debt if you could please feed the starving m!readers with x any marauder in any pairing. i don't want to impose on your creative process but if you need the inspo i'd love to read a slytherin m!reader x sirius that's enemies with benefits !! thank you so so much have a wonderful day

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PART ONE OF THIS STORY. It got long and I will be posting the rest later. As usual, I will make minor edits to this story later tonight. If I don't post the rest in a few days, anon, remind me. I am but a dear old 23-year-old and my birthday is coming up. Love you and kisses, anon.

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

Quidditch was always your favorite time of the year. Not just because you loved to hear the crowd cheer your name when you caught the snitch but because you also loved playing with the Gryffindors.

As a Slytherin, most of the team hated playing Gryffindor. You never minded, though.

Sometimes you wonder why. You blew it off as you liked the challenge. The Gryffindors were a good team, a great team, even, but you were better. Slytherin won nearly all games with Gryffindor since you've been on the team, which was 2 years now. There was one game left in the season and out of the games played with Gryffindor, Slytherin house won 3 to 0.

Sometimes in the dead of night, though, you thought of one particular Gryffindor chaser. You forget his first name but played with his brother, Black. Regulus was cold and distant. His brother seemed so different.

When the long-haired Gryffindor won a point, he’d fly to his friends and celebrate. At the end of the game, he’d jump and dance and sing in the green grass. The Black brother seemed so funny, so care-free. It made you want to enjoy the game even more.

The boy had a tattoo, something you couldn't even imagine Regulus getting. You sometimes saw the dark ink on his tan skin when his shirt lifted up while playing.

Part of you liked seeing someone so happy. You have to remind yourself he’s your opponent, a lot, though.

He wouldn’t care if you were happy.

Speaking of Quidditch, you turned to the calendar beside your desk. A date was circled- Feburary 24th; Your last game with Gryffindor. You never circled the dates for any other house games, only the ones versus Gryffindor. You didn't notice you do this and , so, you didn't care.

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

You awake a week and a half later on February 24th, the last game of the year. Your fellow Slytherins weren’t taking this game so seriously. You’d all already won every game with Gryffindor this season, what was to worry about?

You could taste the Quidditch Cup already- The only game you lost this year was with Hufflepuff.

On the field, ready to start the game, you tighten your grip on your broom. You see the Black brothers eyeing each other with dirty looks. The long haired brother that you don’t know looks… handsome. You’ve never seen him look so mad… so determined.

Before you know it, you hear the whistle, signifying the start. You take the image of him out of your mind and fly upward as high as you can, looking for the snitch.

A few minutes into the game, you spot it, glistening in the little sunlight February has to offer.

Before you know it- the Gryffindor seeker sees it, too. You fly towards it- fast.

You feel the wind whip your face as you zoom through the clouds, through the air, through the… snow?

It’s snowing, coming down fast and out of nowhere. The flakes are hard, almost hail-like. They pelt you on your broom and you feel your stomach jump.

You’re coming close, though- You’re going to beat her to it.

Just a little closer.

But, suddenly she zipped past you, catching the snitch.

Your heart skipped a beat.

You’ve lost the game.

Your broom automatically took you down, down, down, until you're startled by the ground hitting your feet.

You felt like you might puke.

Beside you, the Gryffindor boy zips down, tumbling to the Earth. He somersaults, excitedly.

The weather clears up, immediately.

“James! We fucking won!” He says to the bespectacled boy next to him.

They jump, excitedly, patting each others backs, roughly.

You smile a sad smile and turn to the locker room, directly.

The only thing you want to do right now is take a shower and climb in bed.

Nobody stops you or speaks to you; your teammates simply give you pitiful and hateful looks as you drag your broom behind you, across the field, and into the locker room.

—

After a long, hot shower, you leave the locker room started to Slytherin common room. However, you decide you’d like to walk around the lake before you head inside.

Whilst you walk, you hear a voice. And then another. It’s two boys.

You attempt to finish your walk around the lake but are taken aback when you see the source, laying in the grass near the lake.

As you approach, you see it’s the handsome Gryffindor chaser, Black, and the boy he called “James” at the game. They are still in their uniforms and there was a tall, glass bottle sitting near them.

You try to tiptoe quietly as not to disturb them but they hear you rustling the tall, brown grass.

“What was that…?” You hear James ask his friend. They look around wildly and spot you.

“Hey, look who it is! You’ve finally lost a game, haven't you? How’s it feel?” The nameless boy says to you. He smiled like it’s a joke but there is a bitter undertone lingering in the air.

“Feels shitty, you’d know, though, right? Haven't you lost every game against us this season?” you say.

“Man, Fuck you. Ever heard of a joke?” He says back.

“I can’t make one back?” you ask him.

The long-haired boy smirks, “yeah, make your joke…” he comes closer to you, “just know that even if you win the Quidditch Cup you’re no better a player than me.”

He’s facing you now, and, although you do admit he’s handsome, you’ve just realized what a dick he is. You see the angry lines in his face as he approaches you even closer.

“Don’t have anything to say to that?” He questions, smugly.

You’ve never been one to pick a fight. You could argue all day who’s a better player. But it’d really be no use. The boy will believe what he wants.

So, you say, “not really” with a shrug.

This seems to make him even more mad.

“We don’t need to argue, I know you know the truth already.” He says with a toothy smile. Very infuriating, very sexy. You imagine him on his knees, looking up at you smiling like that. You’d wipe that smug expression of his face, fast.

Your cock twitches at the thought of him between your thighs.

“Whats your name, anyway?” You ask.

“Sirius Black. I know your name, already, you’re Y/N”

Your cock jumps again at the smooth way he says your name. He says it so cold-like.

There’s a silence for a moment.

“If you’re done, I’ll be leaving now. Good night and enjoy your win.” You say, spitefully.

Sirius and James looked at you as you walked into the darkness and into the Hogwarts entrance.

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

When I wrote this I didn't realize Reg is actually the seeker for Slytherin team at this time. Sorry for the inaccuracy

[whataweirdfeeling]

HELLO welcome back to another WAWF interview EXCLUSIVE

As we settle into a warm and toasty WAWFswinter we of course have some new artists to present

With this also being our first official collab Fraud Issue shot by photographer @wavechrist and edited by our original curator @vyngak WAWF has some gifts It must be WAWFchrist-mas

Read below for an exclusive interview and some behind the scenes moments with new artists of WAWF

Find out about all the big plans they have in store

Who are we here with?

Floaty-man, Floaty… pretty flacko jr.. shoutout to ASAP

So you would say ASAP is one of your main influences then?

Hell yeah ASAP is one of my biggest influences. I never really was the one to be like ‘I’m inspired by people’, but I was heavily influenced by like certain people..and they help me be my best self. So now.. my goal is to be better than them cause I’m pretty sure that’s what they would

So would ASAP be a bigger influence to you in fashion or music?

Definitely the music too, ASAP gave me more of the fashion tip. Like the ok to add my swag to my music instead of just trying to push my message I can also add my personality and I can also add how I dress myself and just how I live my life daily.. Regardless of what it look like I can still be on some fly sh*t

Rap name?

Floaty

Where does that name come from?

I always used to get in trouble a lot so when I used to get in trouble I used to stare.. it was the only thing you could do like.. couldn’t play the game or nothing so I would like go outside and literally look at clouds or something.. or when I was in class too I would go to ISD. ISD you get in trouble, you’d be in school but not in school you know what I’m sayin

What can we expect from Floaty in the future?

Expect a lot of shit.. I would say this cause I’m a renaissance man of art. Expect for me to get into short films. But music real heavy, fashion real heavy you know, events real heavy. But short films is what we adding to the list as well

How did you find out about WAWF?

It’s just all organic, it’s really shoutout to Wave. Shoutout to wavechrist cause you know that was the fine point it was just all divine you know. He was just telling me this is who you need to connect with and it was a wrap from there

Who are we here with?

Hello good people of the planet earth and all the other space-lings out there in the world.. I go by the name of ShowwwTimee. That’s with 3 W’s and 2 E’s

Why 3 W’s and 2 E’s

Its always about individuality and how you can express yourself a little bit differently. Plus we not tryna get sued by the actual Showtime tv network you know.. But if they ever wanna collab and put ShowwwTimee on Showtime we could do that

And on a personal note if we wanna get on numerology type time the real name is Shomari and so every name in my full name has 7 letters.. and you know what that means

Tell us about your art

The first art form is definitely film, that’s where all of the inspiration comes from. And then.. I picked up sewing over the pandemic.. It’s been a couple years now since we been doing that. At first I was making the clothes to go with the films, but now the films gotta support the clothes at this point cause I just hit some sort of momentum with the designing and I just can’t stop really. So now I gotta make my films around the pieces, make storylines off these characters that you see i’m making

Describe your fit

We got rainbow boots with tool kinda material for the laces.. shoutout Walmart on that. Thrifted sweatpants.. yellow sweatpants, primary.. We got the yellow blazer, primary and then all the other colors of the rainbow secondary. We got a pac-man tee that got chopped up and turned into a hat up top.. Pieced it together with a raincoat, a yellow raincoat that I found so it’s like a combination in there

Where would you say your style inspo comes from?

Honestly intuition, i’d say intuition leads me and then the colors.. the colors just speak and I combine the two. I find ways to combine the color combinations and different ways to piece it together

What can we expect next from you?

Next we’re gonna have to make a film for the pieces to live in and immortalize them cause yeah you can enjoy them on a day to day basis, on the social networks, but I’m really tryna get all my people off of the social networks and out of the matrix. So I gotta make my own films and put them in a place where all my people can come and congregate together you know.. something like this, shoutout to them boys down in RVA. I’ve never experienced a conglomerate of a community like this so for yall to open yall doors.. shoutout Hugh, shoutout Gavyn, shoutout Floaty, shoutout WAWF

How’d you find out about WAWF?

Honestly they found me. Likeminded individuals always find each other. That’s like soul tribe right there

Along with promoting/supporting growing artists like these WAWF magazine pushes art fashion culture and much more

Stay tuned for all of the exciting things WAWF has planned

[the-ellia-west]

New Wip Snapshots because I HAVE ALL THE INSPO RN TO WRITE ALL 3 WIPs AT ONCE

But I can't edit TCOT unless I have a computer, and I'm waiting to write a J&R scene until the poll is over.

So HERE YA GO

Some small progression in Alkain and Mennel's relationship.

These are three completely separate small unedited scenes form different parts in the timeline, though they are in chronological order

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

Alkain shoved Mennel back, sending him sprawling against the sand with a grunt of pain. “Come on softie! Are you even trying? Don't just wait to die! Aena's eye, get up! You're softer than a sheep that's been beaten to death!”

Mennel gritted his teeth, bracing a hand against the bruise on his ribs where Alkain had slammed the pommel of a sword into him. They'd been at this for hours, and Mennel was getting no better. He knew by the fact that Alkain hadn't stopped yelling at him for even a second.

With every shouted word and hit down, Mennel's temper grew shorter. And at that last insult, he was done. He leaped to his feet. “What is with you?!” He launched himself forward. “I've had enough of this! You pushing me around, thinking I know nothing and you know everything!” He hammered the training weapon down on his mentor with relentless blows, and for once, Alkain remained silent, though Mennal didn't notice. “I'm meant to be some naturally amazing swordsman but I'm not and you keep rubbing it in! I don't know what I'm doing and you're not helping me! I'm getting no better!” 

But then he froze just as Alkain grabbed his sword arm, and pointed his own weapon straight at Mennel's neck. The young swordsman braced for an insult, but instead, a real, genuine, proud smile cracked Alkain's face. “Good.”

“Wh-what?” Mennel froze at the singular word.

But instead of responding, Alkain just tossed his weapon to the side and let go of Mennel, walking away, and then the young swordsman realized. That was the first time he'd watched Alkain leave while standing on his own two feet.

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

“You said I was doing good! But you didn't change! You're still rude, and disrespectful, and you still just beat me into the ground! You didn't even tell me what I did good that time! You're an awful teacher! You hate me and I know it! You just want me to fail so you can return to your own damn comfortable lifestyle and let me die at the hands of that freak! All I want is to do what I'm supposed to do and get this damn prophecy off my shoulders! You don't care about anyone here! You just care about yourself! It's worthless trying to reason with you because none of this even reaches you since you don't care about me or what I have to say! You don't care about me, You don't care about Euania, or Oirwyn either! Because they helped me, they're going to die with me because I'm untrained and you'll just be happy when it happens!” 

But suddenly, Mennel stopped, his training weapon a single inch from Alkain's neck. The old soldier had just caught it before it hit him. He glanced at it, a little bit of surprise in his expression, but no emotion was more prominent than regret. “Alright. Kid, you think you've learned nothing? Then how come you beat me right here? Your sword is to my neck. You've won. And I'm an awful teacher. Sure, I'll admit that. But you still beat me because of my training. Sure, you can insult me right back, call me rude, or selfish, and that's all true. But don't you even dare say I don't care about them. Euania and Oirwyn are my life. They're the only reason I'm alive, and they're the only reason you're alive. And yes Mennel, contrary to what you believe, insults do hurt me.” And with that, he forced Mennel's weapon away from his neck and left.

Mennel hesitated for a second and then looked down at his hands. Had he really improved?

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

Mennel leaned against the wall as he heard voices from within, not wanting to interrupt. But instead, he overheard Euania speaking with Alkain.

“How's training going?”

“Not exactly well. He doesn't like me, but that was to be expected. He's not a very good swordsman, and he needs a lot of work…” he trailed off.

“I can hear a but in that sentence Kain. What is it?”

“He needs a lot of work, but kid's got grit, I'll give ‘im that. He can deal with me yelling at him every day, not many can do that.”

Euania laughed. “So is he improving?”

“Yes. Slowly. But the thing is, I can only really get his true skill to show when I make him angry. That's been my tactic because both times he's blown up at me he's improved greatly. The first time his speed was too overwhelming, but he had no real defense, and when I targeted his defense with insults, he’s improved there so much that he beat me. Every time I insult him, he takes it to heart, but because of that, he changes. If it takes him hating me to keep that feisty little kid alive, I can take it, even if he does have a right nasty tongue.”

“Ha! Does he now? Sounds a bit like you!”

And this time, Mennel heard the smile in Alkain's voice. “Huh. I suppose it does.”

[dcbbw]

Hazy Shades of Winter

Happy 2023, tumblrs! Or as I like to say, “Welcome to 2020-3,” which means Year 3 of the Year 2020. The FIRST DAY of the NEW YEAR, I tested positive for Covid. For the second time within a year. I’m grateful both cases have been relatively mild, and I remain (somewhat) functional.

My first fic for 2020-3 is a collection of drabbles comprised of the many Winter OTP asks sent to me by the lovely @neotericthemis​. I could’ve made it easy on myself and simply answered Person A/Person B, but I’m extra and frankly, I wondered if I could make coherent, cohesive stories from the asks … and here we are.

Not beta’d, and it’s mostly written, proofed and edited by Covid. You’ve been warned. MS Editor rates this story 99% error-free. Please excuse any and all typos, missing/extraneous words, and/or grammatical errors.

I hope all who read this enjoy it. THANK YOU to those who comment, like, and/or reblog; it is appreciated more than you will ever know.

Pairings in this story (these stories): Liam x Riley; Liam x Maxwell

Rating is M for Mature (it’s me, and better to err on the side of caution)

All characters (except Fric and Frac) belong to Pixelberry

Song Inspo: Silent Night, DRM

Word Count:4,779 

Discontent Liam x Riley

Who wants to cosy up to the fire?

Who wants a kiss under the mistletoe?

Who is bad at ice skating and keeps falling on their butt?

The doors to the monarchs’ private suite quietly shut behind the King as he entered the darkened quarters. A fire burned in the hearth, embers popping and hissing as the blaze consumed the logs. The heat warded off the chill from the snow and ice outside.

It was a centuries-old palace; windows were drafty despite upgrades to the heating units.

His eyes adjusted to the dimness, and his gaze found Mara dozing fitfully in a wingback armchair. As he silently padded across the carpet, he saw his wife’s prone form on the settee in his peripheral vision.

Her white satin sleeping gown was yellowed by the firelight; a blanket was bunched at her feet. Her soft snores reminded him of a kitten purring.

Mara started at feeling the gentle shove upon her shoulder; her eyes blinked open, and she looked sheepishly at her employer. Liam reassured her with a small smile.

“You’re fine,” he whispered. He tilted his head in his wife’s direction. “Did Riley eat tonight?”

The sentry nodded affirmatively. When she spoke, her tone was hushed. “Pasta. She made sure a plate was put aside for you. It’s in the refrigerator.”

“What did she … drink?” His voice tripped over the last word.

“Wine. Just one bottle tonight.”

Liam nodded slowly, staring at a sleeping Riley before speaking. “You go get some sleep, Mara. I’m here now.”

Mara stiffly rose from her seat. “I’ll put the alarm on my way out.”

“Thank you,” the King replied as he made his way to the sofa, removing shoes and jacket along the way.

He paused to pull the throw up over Riley’s body before settling into a corner of the divan, gently lifting his Queen’s head so it now rested in his lap. January moonlight eked through partially closed curtains as his gaze trained on the fire.

There was a time when Riley would be the first one awake, dressed, and ready to indulge in outdoor winter sports, particularly ice skating despite the fact she was terrible at it. She would hit Liam over his head with pillows until he grudgingly woke up and joined her and their friends at the pond on the North Lawn.

Her eyes would widen with fright as she wobbled and stumbled onto the ice; they would fill with rueful acceptance and laughter when she inevitably fell. But they would close in blessed relief when Liam’s strong arms wrapped around her, steadying her balance as he guided them around the lake.

Now, she fretted that all the falls contributed to her infertility, despite assurances from doctors and her husband that it wasn’t true.

Christmas was their favorite holiday. Riley liked to say winter was a time of rest and rejuvenation; that the world slowed down and people were kinder, gentler when the nights were the longest. Of all her duties as Queen, her favorite project was the annual holiday decorating of the Grand Foyers at both the Palace and Valtoria. She hung mistletoe beneath every doorway, and over their bed as not-so-subtle hints to her husband to kiss her.

As if he needed reminders.

On Christmas Eve, she would enter their bedchambers naked and covered in faux mistletoe; the sun would be rising before Liam removed all the green leaves from her body.

His fingers idly combed through her hair as he recalled that his Queen had not hung one mistletoe over the holiday season. Liam could not remember the last time he and his wife had touched each other intimately.

God, he missed her.

He sighed as his gaze shifted from the fire to Riley’s profile. She looked … peaceful in repose. There was no worry, no stress, no tension in sleep. He removed his fingers from her hair, pressed a kiss to the index and middle fingers, and lay the digits against her cheek.

At least she still enjoyed sitting by a fire. They could continue to share that, at least.

“Liam?” Riley stirred slightly.

“I’m here, love,” he answered quietly.

He expected her to leave; rise up, grab a bottle of gin, and sweep into her chambers in an effort to avoid the fact she had a husband, that they had a marriage.

But she didn’t.

“The fire’s lovely, isn’t it?” she murmured sleepily as she continued to lay her head in his lap.

“It is. Do you need another blanket?” he asked, the back of his fingers idly stroking her cheek.

She shook her head slightly. “No.”

“Do you wish to retire to your quarters?”

A pause. “Can we just stay here?”

Liam released a silent sigh of relief. “Of course, love.”

 Object of Affection Liam x Riley (Mermaids)

Who still believes in Santa?

Who is the best gift giver?

Who wants to go caroling?

“Lady Riley, why aren’t you ready?” Liam demanded indignantly.

He stood in her common area, wearing a tuxedo and a top hat. His hands were on his hips, and a frown downturned his lips.

“Ready for what? And why are you dressed that way?” Riley questioned as she rummaged in her refrigerator. She let out a triumphant cry as she pulled out a carton of Lythikos nog.

“Caroling! Every year, the reigning monarch, along with their family and closest friends, go caroling the week before Christmas along the Stormholt Historic District. I put it on your calendar!”

Riley drank her nog directly from the carton, wiping away the left-behind creamy mustache from her upper lip with the back of her hand. Her eyes went between Liam and looking down at her outfit: blue yoga pants, a sleeveless white tee shirt that read: Peace. Love. Bubblegum.; fuzzy pink slipper socks were on her feet. Her hair was a frizzy afro.

“I never got the calendar invite. You can check for yourself,” she shrugged.

Liam began to pace the rooms, clearly agitated. “This is TRADITION, and you are treating it so … so nonchalantly! As Queen, you will be expected to …”

“You forget, me marrying you was MY idea! NOT yours. I realize the expectations. I am telling you, I received nada from you or your people,” Riley retorted as she disappeared into her bedroom.

“Where are you going now?” Liam demanded angrily.

“To get ready!” Riley snapped.

Liam tossed his hat onto a nearby chair before picking up his betrothed’s phone. “May I check your calendar?” he called out.

“I don’t care,” Riley replied before the sound of the shower turning on filled the space.

Liam’s brow furrowed as he pulled up Riley’s outlook. Obviously, she stayed logged in as it opened immediately. His eyes quickly scanned the list of correspondence: Regina, Madeleine, himself, her assistant. He tapped the calendar icon; December 18 was empty.

The frown between his brows deepened. Liam had personally sent the invitation on December 1; he hadn’t had time to follow-up with Riley on her confirmation. End-of-year was a busy time for governance, and he had been busy meeting with duchy leaders regarding finances, trade agreements, and a military alliance amongst many pressing issues.

Did he somehow overlook her invitation?

“Do I need to carry a candle and a book, like Charles Dickens?” Riley’s question interrupted his wonderings.

He looked up, and his eyes widened in wonder and delight. His fiancée stood before him in a high-necked, green velvet maxi dress adorned with white sequined snowflakes. Her hair was an upsweep of glossy brown curls. Sensibly heeled dark brown boots adorned her feet and disappeared beneath the skirt of her frock.

“You look utterly gorgeous,” Liam praised as he bowed to kiss the back of her hand.

“Thank you,” Riley blushed.

“Is the car waiting downstairs?” Riley asked as Liam helped wrap a white, woolen cloak about her body.

“We’ll be arriving by horse-drawn carriage,” Liam corrected.

“You know what would be a better tradition? A live Christmas Eve concert at Bossina Cathedral broadcast to all Cordonia so no citizen is or feels left out.”

Liam paused to stare thoughtfully at Riley. “That is definitely something to consider.”

“I’m on the Holiday Planning Committee. I’ll bring it up at the next meeting.”

In the carriage, the couple made small talk.

“What were your plans this evening if not for caroling?” Liam inquired as he held Riley’s gloved hand in his.

“Hanging Christmas lights inside my rooms. Santa has to know where to find me now since I didn’t leave a forwarding address.”

“I believe Santa knows where to find all the good boys and girls.”

“And we’re back to: I need him to know where to find me!” Riley chuckled.

“I’m happy to help you with the Christmas lights if you’d like,” Liam offered, his eyes glued on her profile.

Riley looked at him skeptically. “My people will call your people.”

They settled into comfortable silence, relishing in the scenery and each other’s company. Liam’s thoughts were focused on his Christmas present to Riley.

Her engagement ring. Her new one. One given out of want and respect, not duty and obligation.

The carriage slowed as they reached their destination, Stormholt Square.

“Will there be bathroom breaks?”

“Shopkeepers provide us with refreshments such as hot cider, hot cocoa, fudge, treats. We are also welcome to utilize their facilities.”

“Thank God,” Riley muttered as she prepared to open her door.

Before she could pull the handle, the door was swung open; before her was the Duchess of Lythikos, her red hair hidden beneath a black Russian fur hat, and her svelte figure encased in a chic red coat.  Her Grace’s expression swiftly changed from delight to one of bewildered confusion; Riley saw thinly veiled consternation creep into Olivia’s green eyes.

And in that moment, Riley knew exactly what had happened to her calendar invite.

SGL x Riley B. (DC AU)

Who makes the other hot chocolate?

Who listens to Christmas music way too early?

Who puts up the Christmas lights?

“Voila! Chocolate chip Belgian waffles and caramel hot chocolate!” Liam announced with a wink as he placed a plate and mug before Riley.

Riley’s brown eyes rolled as she took in Liam wearing a snowman onesie, complete with a jaunty red scarf around his neck and a black top hat on the hood, but grew appreciative when she saw the food.

“Why are we dressed this way for breakfast?” she questioned as she pushed the sleeves of her Grinch onesie further up her arms. Riley was messy with syrup, and she liked her waffles with lots of butter and syrup.

“Tis the SEASON!” Liam explained as if it were obvious, before blowing on his cup of cocoa.

Riley looked around as she chewed her waffle; it was delicious. Liam had made them with buttermilk and vanilla.

The sounds of Ella Fitzgerald singing Christmas carols filled the apartment. A six-foot-tall tree stood in a corner of the dining area, decorated with garland, balls, and various ornaments collected over the years. Every window in Liam’s apartment was framed with twinkling Christmas lights. An inflatable reindeer stood watch on the fire escape.

“Liam, you’ve done a great job decorating, but don’t you think it’s a little … much?” she asked.

Liam looked at Riley as if she had slapped him. “THAT right there is why you’re the Grinch, Riley B.! I never figured you to be a Scrooge!”

“And I never thought you were a psycho!”

“I like Christmas, okay?”

“IT’S VETERAN’S DAY! I get it … Christmas is special, for good reason. But celebrating early detracts from the holidays that precede it and makes Christmas less special when it arrives!”

Liam shoved a forkful of waffles into his mouth. “What’s wrong with invoking the spirit that Christmas brings a little earlier? People are kinder, more generous, and just BETTER human beings at Christmas!”

“Then become a Catholic and celebrate December 25 through January 6!”

Riley held out her empty plate. “More, please.”

Liam’s eyes widened in an almost comical manner. “You just called me a psycho and told me to join an organized religion simply because I LIKE CHRISTMAS!” He shook his head resolutely. “No more waffles for YOU!”

Riley set her empty plate down slowly. “I … I didn’t say THAT!”

“But you did!” Liam argued.

“Not LIKE THAT!” Riley protested.

“YES, like that! Those words were said with intent, Riley B. Whether it was specific or general can be debated. But you spoke them with a clear intent.”

He sliced more waffle, then glanced over at her mug. “Drink your cocoa before it gets cold.”

He watched Riley lift her cup before resuming the conversation.

“My wishing to celebrate Christmas earlier is no different than a person celebrating their birthday the entire birth month. Does that somehow lessen the significance of the actual birth date?”

Riley shook her head. “It isn’t the same!”

“Why isn’t it? Tell me HOW, using your own argument, that the person celebrating their birthday all month doesn’t detract from another’s actual birthday in the same month?”

“YOU are celebrating Christmas SIX WEEKS early! You aren’t even in the birthday month!”

Liam smirked. “Christmas is a SEASON, in addition to a day. Can you tell me when the season starts?”

Riley was nonplussed. She bit her lip as she thought.

“Christmas SEASON officially begins the day after Thanksgiving and ends January 2; therefore, I’m only two weeks early, not six. Even with that, I’m still a week behind the big-box retailers.”

“Did you … did you just go Lawyer Liam on me to defend decorating early for Christmas?” Riley asked as she sipped more hot chocolate. “While dressed as a snowman?”

Liam slid from his stool to turn the waffle maker on. He tossed the red scarf over his shoulder before looking back at Riley and giving her a big wink.

“Yup!”

UnRomance Liam x Riley (The 9 ½ Weeks AU)

Who is excited for trimming the Christmas Tree?

Who wraps the presents?

Who wants to build a snowman?

I stand naked before the plate glass window wall in my dining room, watching snow fall into the East River.

“Liam, wake up!” my mother excitedly shakes me awake.

I rub my eyes and scrunch my nose, trying to wake up. It’s Christmas morning, which normally means I would already be awake, but I had stayed up late wrapping mom’s presents.

“It’s snowing! On Christmas Day!” she exclaims in a hushed whisper.

My eyes fly open; my bare feet thump heavily across the wooden floor as I race to the window. My nose presses against cold glass as I watch thick, white flakes fall to join the inches already accumulated on the ground. Our neighborhood is a quiet sea of untouched white crystals.

I turn to look at her, happiness and excitement both in my face and voice. “Mama, can we go out in it?”

She giggles as she rakes her fingers through my sleep-tousled hair. “Of course! Why do you think I woke you up?”

“YAY!” I jump up and down. “We’ll build a snowman?”

She nods in agreement. “Get showered and dressed. Breakfast soon.”

I sip cautiously at the hot black coffee in my mug as I turn from the window and walk through the living room. There is a short Christmas tree standing in one of the corners, no more than four feet tall. Riley put it there. I don’t celebrate the holidays.

“There will be NO TREE, Riley! I have told you REPEATEDLY I DO.NOT.CELEBRATE. ANY. HOLIDAY! You are free to go home to decorate and celebrate as you see fit!”

“You put up that ceramic tabletop tree! A TREE IS A TREE!”

“You need to go home,” I respond quietly. “You have no idea how to respect wishes or boundaries.”

Fear leaps in her eyes at being told to go home. “It’s just a tree. I’ll make sure it’s a small one. PLEASE??”

“I will have nothing to do with it OR this Christmas bullshit you INSIST on bringing to MY house!

She nods sadly. “It’s just a tree,” she whispers.

It’s an artificial one, pre-lit. Lights of red, green, and white twinkle against silver tinsel and golden-colored balls. There are three gifts beneath it: two are in gift bags. They are to me from Riley.

The third is wrapped in comic paper. It’s my mother’s favorite perfume. I bought it for her every year when she was alive. I have brought it for her every year since.

I climb the stairs that lead to the upper floor; I enter the dark, quiet study and sit behind my desk, contemplating what I’m about to do. I don’t turn on the computer or the television. Instead, I place my mug on the desk and rise, making my way towards the closet.

I thrust my arm inside to pull out a shopping bag; it’s filled with wrapping paper and Riley’s gifts. They’re not Christmas gifts; I don’t celebrate the holiday. She’ll merely receive them on Christmas Day.

I carry it all to the desk and begin neatly cover the purchases with silver wrapping, carefully cutting paper, and folding and tucking in corners. The sky lightens as I work; the snow continues to fall. I place the boxes into the bag and return to the closet.

I rummage on the upper shelf, my hand finding what I seek: a newspaper-wrapped ceramic angel holding a sparkly star. I place her atop the gifts and carry bag and mug back downstairs with me. The bag goes beneath the tree, and I carefully unwrap and place my mother’s angel atop it.

I walk into the kitchen, pour the dregs of my coffee down the drain, and check the refrigerator for breakfast ingredients. I slowly head for my bedroom, enjoying the dimness and silence. When I enter, I see a robed Riley clutching a panel of blackout curtain in one hand, her face so close to the glass I’d wager her nose is pressed against it. She turns when she hears me, her face alight with a joyous smile.

“Liam! It’s snowing! On Christmas Day!” she gushes happily.

I stare at her, wanting to tell her to stop being such a child, and to get back in bed.

But I don’t.

She doesn’t know that there is a present for her beneath the Christmas tree. She doesn’t know that I am preparing one of her favorite breakfasts this morning: French crepes, bacon, and matcha latte.

All she knows is that it’s snowing on Christmas morning, and that she’s with me.

I allow her to be happy and enjoy this moment.

I see myself in her.

“Breakfast soon,” I promise as I climb beneath the covers, turning my back to her and the window.

 Riam

Who puts up the Christmas lights?

Who hits up Black Friday sales?

Who starts a snowball fight?

“Get back here, you little heathen!” Riley ordered, just before tripping over one of her sons’ toys and faceplanting into the plush carpeting of the boys’ nursery.

Her firstborn, Frac, stopped running when he heard her fall; he stopped and turned, then burst into laughter at seeing his mother felled like a tree.

He pointed a chubby finger at Riley, chanting, “Heevin”.

His mother closed her eyes and slowly counted to 10. It was too early for the emotional damage being inflicted upon her by the tiny humans she helped create.

“You cannot say ‘heathen’ around dada, do you understand?”

“Dada heevin! Dada heevin!” Frac laughed.

Fric, his identical twin and the youngest by three minutes, toddled around Riley and was repeatedly poking his finger into one of her butt cheeks, prominently outlined through her flannel nightgown due to a gigantic wedgie.

“Mama butt!”

“Oh, dear LORD! Stop touching it, little boy!” Riley huffed as she gently smacked Fric’s hand off her.

Frac hurriedly joined his brother, and the boys clambered onto Riley’s back, knocking her back to the floor before she could fully stand; the pair rocked back and forth and bounced up and down on their mother, tiny fingers gripping her gown while shrieking with laughter as they alternated between saying, “Horthee” and “Heevin butt.”

A brisk knock on the door preceded a freshly dressed Liam’s entry; his greeting died on his lips as he took in the scene before him:

His wife face down on the floor, flailing her legs and pounding her fists against the floor, yelling, “STOP THAT!”; a section of her nightgown was bunched between her butt cheeks.

His sons, naked except for diapers, using Riley for horseback rides, while yelling something that sounded suspiciously like horse’s heathen butt.

“Francis! Jonathan!” Liam addressed his sons by their Christian names in a firm tone as he strode towards his family.

The boys abruptly halted their movements, turning their heads almost guiltily. Bright, guileless smiles wreathed their faces when they saw their father.

“DADA!” They scrambled off their mother and ran to Liam.

The King squatted so he was eye-level with his sons. “What were you doing to your mother?” he demanded.

“Mama heevin,” Frac stated as if that explained everything.

“They tried to KILL ME, Liam.” Riley moaned dramatically as she rolled over onto her back. “They are implementing their plan of world domination, and I’m the test subject!”

Liam wagged an index finger before the twins’ faces. “Your mother is NOT a heathen, and we will continue this discussion,” he promised.

The twins looked at each other with startled eyes. “Oh, oh!” they said in unison before scampering off to their bedroom.

Liam chuckled as he stretched out beside his wife. “What did we do before those two came along?”

“Have peace, quiet, allll the food, and not live in fear for our lives.” Riley threw her forearm across her brow.

Liam turned his head so his eyes could take in Riley’s profile. “Do you want to try for another one?”

Riley turned her head, meeting his gaze. “Yes,” she answered softly.

Their hands reached for the other’s, and they lay in relative quiet for a few moments.

“We need to head to Valtoria before the storm comes,” Liam stated.

The royal family would be spending the Christmas/New Year holiday season at the Queen’s duchy as they did every year. This winter season, Valtoria was experiencing significant snowfall and with more accumulation expected all week, it appeared there would be a white Christmas.

“Gladys informed me yesterday that all the orphanages received their packages from “Santa”, so that’s good. And multiple deliveries were made to the Great House from online shippers, so guessing my Black Friday purchases arrived as well.”

“You weren’t the only one to take advantage of lower prices and free shipping, love,” Liam reminded her.

“Did you use my Prime account?” Riley demanded.

“Did you use my credit card?” her husband countered.

Silence. “Maybe.”

Liam laughed quietly as he moved closer to Riley. “Then we’re even.”

“We need to leave within the next hour if we’re going to arrive before more precipitation. Maybe we can take the boys out in the snow before it gets too heavy.”

“Judging by what I walked in on, it’s going to take you that long to get them clothed.”

“You dress them, I’ll order breakfast to go and get ready. Make sure to put them in their reindeer snowsuits.”

Liam’s brow knit. “Love, where did our children learn words like heathen and butt?”

Riley shook her head. “No idea. Maybe those Mickey Mouse cartoons they watch.”

Liam’s eyes narrowed. “I think you do know.”

“You can’t prove that!”

“But I can settle it. Snowball fight in Valtoria.”

“Heathens versus Butts? You’re on!” Riley accepted the challenge as Liam helped her from the floor. “Just so you know, I’m the heathen.”

Liam eyed her posterior admiringly as she made her way to the door. “It’s looking like a butt from here.”

The Queen stuck out her tongue before disappearing through the doorway.

Writer’s Choice (Laxwell)

Who wants to see the Christmas parade?

Who throws the Christmas party?

Who makes homemade gifts?

“This is going to be the BEST Christmas EVER!” Maxwell announced delightedly as he tucked into his lunch.

The Duke of Valtoria, Liam Rys, stared dubiously across the table at his lover before reaching for dressing to pour over his salad. “It’s going to be such a whirlwind! I much prefer a slower-paced, quieter holiday.”

“New Year’s will be quiet. Just us,” Maxwell promised.

“Thank goodness. I don’t want any wild parties, Max!”

“We got the Beaumont Bash, Holiday Edition scheduled on the 23rd. No one will have recuperated enough for another one so soon.”

“Then on Christmas Day, I’m Grand Marshal of the Valtorian Christmas Parade,” Liam added.

“I’ll be front row, and I’ll walk the entire parade route with you. You won’t be alone.”

Liam chuckled as he sliced into his grilled chicken. “With rumors of the entire duchy attending, I would hope not!”

“Your constituents love you.”

Liam shook his head. “They didn’t when I raised the tax rate.”

“Sales tax! By only 3%, and it’s still the lowest in all of Cordonia. Besides, if they don’t, I do,” Maxwell looked up from his plate to bat his eyes at Liam.

“And I love you more,” Liam smiled fondly at the young Lord.

“Y’know, I was thinking … since Christmas Day is going to be jam-packed with the Parade and family dinners, maybe we could exchange gifts Christmas Eve,” Maxwell suggested as he ladled gravy onto his mashed potatoes.

Liam’s eyes widened appreciatively over the rim of his wineglass. “Excellent idea, love!”

“I can’t wait for you to see your present!”

Liam’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Is it a peacock?”

Maxwell raised an eyebrow, his expression giving away nothing. “I’m not telling.”

“Max, if you got me a PEACOCK … you KNOW I’m allergic!”

“Is that what you’re calling being a scaredy-cat nowadays?” Maxwell teased.

Liam bunched up his cloth napkin and lobbed it at his boyfriend. It harmlessly bounced off Maxwell’s hair and onto the carpet. “No peacocks!” Liam warned.

Maxwell grinned to himself. He most definitely had not gotten Liam a peacock, but there was a puppy. A Corgi, rescued from the local animal shelter. That was gift number one.

Gift number two spoke to Liam’s sentiment; it was a pinboard, handcrafted by Maxwell himself. With the help of the Great House’s staff.

It was made of cork, wood that had been painted in Cordonian blue, and macrame rope. Maxwell put a lot of thought into what would go onto the board: peacock feathers; a photo of Queen Eleanor and baby Liam; the ticket stubs from their first U2 concert; a copy of his letter to Liam on their second anniversary; glitter; a picture of Liam the day of his coronation as Duke of Valtoria, wearing his coronet and carrying a shield decorated with the Valtorian coat of arms; a stock photo of two clinking beer bottles, and a photo of their mothers at a tea party, grinning conspiratorially at each other over tea cups.

He hoped Liam liked it.

Liam, across the table, was finishing his meal debating if he should get a refund on Maxwell’s gift. The second-born to the throne was now absolutely convinced that he was getting a peacock for Christmas.

His gift to Maxwell was a two-week trip to France next summer. They would be attending the Peacock Society’s annual electronic dance music festival in Paris. Max would be upset that the Peacock Society had nothing to do with actual peafowl, but in-person attendance at an actual festival would make up for that.

After the three-day festival, the pair would be off to hike the Pyrenees Mountains.

The trip they never got to take.

“WHAT?” Maxwell exclaimed as he reached for more chicken and potatoes. “I feel you watching me!”

“Good! Because I am going to KEEP watching you, every day until Christmas Eve.”

“Well, let me make it worth your while, …” Maxwell pulled his sweater over his head, exposing his muscled bare chest, hippo tattoo, and rippled abs.

He winked at Liam before eating a forkful of chicken and salad.

The Duke audibly gulped before licking his suddenly dry lips. “Please, continue,” he urged.

“If I do that, I’m giving you your present early,” Maxwell protested with a sly grin.

Liam had risen from his seat and was pulling Maxwell from his. “I’ll still want it on Christmas Eve.”

“But the surprise!” Maxwell mock protested as he willingly let Liam lead him towards their bedroom.

“You’ll think of something between now and then.”

Tagging:  @jared2612​ @ao719​  @marietrinmimi​ @merridithsmiscellany-blog​ @queenjilian​ @indiacater​ @kingliam2019​ @bebepac​ @liamxs-world​ @mom2000aggie​ @liamrhysstalker2020​  @neotericthemis​ @twinkleallnight​ @umccall71​ @superharriet​  @busywoman​ @gabesmommie1130​ @tessa-liam​ @phoenixrising0308​ @beezm​ @gardeningourmet​ @lovingchoices14​ @foreverethereal123​ @mainstreetreader​ @angelasscribbles​ @lady-calypso​ @emkay512​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @princessleac1​ @charlotteg234​ @queenrileyrose​ @alj4890​ @yourfavaquarius111​ @motorcitymademadame​ @queenmiarys​  @choicesficwriterscreations​ @burnsoslow​

[nepalsaysrawr]

Meiker April Fools Recap (Y2K24 edition)

April 12, 2024

Alright, it's final. This year's limited-time April Fools special is now officially BENCHED, as just what tradition dictates! Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you... THE TRAGIC TALE OF APRIL FOOLS PRANK #3, "THE PAYWALL"!

Last year, I had this idea for a paywall-themed prank, but I ditched it for a solitaire-themed prank, so this year, I decided to bring back this idea and give it a go. I created the "game" a few weeks before April Fools, where I had plans to upload it on March 31, but due to a birthday vacation, I wouldn't upload it until the time I went home on late April Fools day. I let it stay for almost 2 weeks, due to another sojourn (AGAIN!) before killing it off for good. Addio, my dear prank, we hardly knew ye.

Some screenshots of the darn thing (most of which were taken on the day it went live on the day after April Fools' Day)

This is how it appeared in the New Games section, aside from my pizza game, which thankfully is still up till this day.

It even landed a sunny spot on the Trending section and at some point made it to the first place. No wonder why everyone got themselves fooled in the first place. Sweet. Kekeke.

This, on the other hand was a pic of the description and tags. Yes, they were indeed the real-a deal.

Once hitting up that Play button, you'd be greeted with this thing. So if you were wondering why you'd need to pay a thousand dollars to play this thing and gain all those privileges, it was all nothing more than a weird ruse I concocted. In fact, this game even admitted it! Don't worry, I won't put future games under paywalls. My games are free and will always be free. On the other hand, you'll get to see the fuller version of the message down below, without watermarks this time:

As you can see here, I took some inspo from old infomercials to create this message, but with my own twists. I originally was going for a standard blue backdrop or a Frutiger Aero style, but went on with a galaxy-inspired look.

And now for the abosolute truth behind all this. All the items in the game were clones of the icon below which on the other hand were snuck behind the message with categories placed under the [fixed] tag.

But wait! How 'bout the icon for the game itself?

Yes, this was also the real deal just like the description, I'm not kidding. I only used a simple gradient I made, added in some text, and a doodle of Mei (the Meiker mascot for starters) as a police officer. Sometimes simplicity is the best policy.

And that's a wrap for this year's April Fools prank recap. Tune in next year for another exciting April Fools deal! Or hopefully!

[sharkpupsblog]

😈 Brand New Person ‼️ PART (5/6) Run for your life.

A Dark Riders and Dark Rider! Aideen! GN! Reader fanfic!

WOOO another silly part!!! I worked on this really late at night and edited it today and had such a fun time with it 😭 I had written so much incomprehensible stuff I couldn’t stop laughing at it 😭😭😭 I need to stop writing late at night so i won’t have any mistakes but that’s sadly when the inspo hits me 😔😔😔 I think the next part might be the last . I want to say it will be . But I’ve said that like 3 times now so 💀 also I put that reader is Aideen but it doesn’t really matter 🤭 I put it there bcs of the plot and bcs it would make sense for the Dark Riders to want u as an ally and do the whole plan thing . Other than the plot it really . Doesn’t matter. Sorry 😭💔 Anyways ty all for ur patience and enjoy!!! :D

Summary: After Katja tells you the truth you must run to survive.

Warnings: bl33ding wounds, talks of wounds, loss of bl00d and talks of it, horse in dangerous situation and dr0wning.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you struggled to breathe. Your breathing was quick and panicked your lungs couldn’t hold onto air for long making you feel lightheaded. Your footsteps echoed as you ran down the big halls of the oil rig. Your fear made the halls seem longer and darker. You almost tripped on air, but you managed to keep yourself on your feet thanks to your brain quickly reacting. You brain was ready for any obstacle that came your way. Adrenaline kept you alert, so you could survive. Blood dripped from your cuts and onto the floors of the rig leaving a trail behind. Thanks to the Adrenaline you weren’t feeling any pain. While it was keeping you alive it was also hiding a big secret. As you ran you felt like a wounded deer being chased by a wolf. Thanks to the trail you were leaving behind and the sounds of your panic the wolf was able to keep finding you. “You’re a fool! We gave you everything!” A spike of ice rose in front of you headed straight for your head. You let out a scream as the spike cut your earlobe when you dodged out of the way. “You were respected! Cared for! Loved! And you threw it all away!” Katja’s voice was everywhere you didn’t know where she was coming from. Her voice echoed in the halls of the rig it was impossible to know where she was. You couldn’t see her, but you knew she could see you. Due to the accuracy of the spikes she was sending your way you assumed she was nearby. Your heart made it harder for you to try and listen to where she was coming from. It beat loudly and it kicked at your ribcage. You felt like your body was going to give out soon. It was giving you its all in hope for survival. “Do you really think the Soul Riders will forgive you?!” Katja laughed, and her laugh echoed throughout the hall. “As soon as you arrive Anne will kill you! If I don’t kill you she surely will!” the woman summoned another spike. The spike was headed for your stomach you dodged it letting out a sigh of relief as you managed to dodge it just in time. You could see a light at the end of the hall. The light was coming from the stables you were almost there! You closed your eyes shutting them tight then you quickly opened them. You ran faster using all the strength left in your body to push yourself to go further. You were able to make it to the light quickly pushing the stable door open. Your horse neighed as you ran into the stables. Mortifa, Khaan and Arcebus neighed along with your horse everyone was startled by your sudden entrance. You calmed them all as quick as possible, so Katja wouldn’t hear them and find you. The corrupted starbreeds watched you as you rushed to your horse. “Listen to me” you panted “we need to get out of here now!” You opened the door to your horse’s stall walking into it, quickly leading your soul steed out. There was no time for tack you would have to ride bareback. “Where are you?!” You could hear Katja yell from outside of the stable. There was little time left she would figure out where you where soon by the trail of blood you left behind. You looked down to your wounds going wide eyed as some of the adrenaline wore off, and you started to feel pain. Your surprise didn’t end there. The floor was covered in your blood you were losing a lot of it. You hadn’t realized just how much you had been bleeding. You needed to get out and find a way to heal yourself quickly. You led your horse to the other doors in the stable. The doors led to the outside of the oil rig you clumsily undid the lock pushing the doors open. Your horse’s ears perked up as they heard you groan. You pushed past the pain, so you could get on their back. Your mount neighed looking to you seeing all your bleeding wounds. You held onto their mane letting out a huff as you started to feel lightheaded. “Run” you told your horse “run as fast as you can” you leaned against their neck. “Please” you begged them, and they neighed, lightly rearing to make you sit up before taking off into a sprint. You sat on your horse holding on as they ran through the oil rig.

The rig looked like a maze to you as you were starting to pass out. Your vision was blurry, and everything was spinning. Your hands managed to stay on your horse’s mane, but the rest of your body was slipping. Your horse neighed as they felt you slowly slip off. They bucked, and you slid back to where you were originally seated. Your smart mount wasn’t going to let you die today or ever. “Get them!” You could hear Katja yelling, but she sounded so distant like if she were miles away from you. The woman sent the workers of the rig after you. The clones scrambled to catch your horse, or to try and catch any of your limbs to be able to slip you off the steed. The workers didn’t have any luck and their stupidity angered Katja. The woman let out an angry scream raising her hand to create a giant wall of ice. Your horse neighed loudly, and they sped up. They wanted to try to jump the wall, but it was rising too quickly. Once your horse realized jumping wasn’t an option they came to a hard stop. The stop made you slide forwards causing you to hit yourself on their neck. The pain and the surprise of the hit woke you up giving you enough consciousness to realize what was happening. You were trapped Katja trapped you this was the end. You were going to die. If Katja didn’t kill you the blood loss sure would. You looked at the wall and then behind you seeing the rig workers approach you. Behind the workers stood Katja glaring daggers into you. She couldn’t wait to kill you and you knew she wouldn’t make it quick. You shivered in fear closing your eyes. Your eyelids felt heavy you couldn’t keep them open for long. Your horse turned around facing their back to the wall they snorted at the workers. You heard them bray at the clones their ears going back they weren’t going down without a fight. You let out a sob “it’s over” you let go of their mane slumping forwards “she caught us.” You gave up, but your horse wasn’t going to quit until you were both safe. You felt them tense, and you opened your eyes to see why. You saw your horse looking over the edge of the railing. The water below the rig formed huge waves. They crashed against the legs of the rig. The waves were headed to land. They were quick and strong enough to carry. Your horse whinnied throwing their head back, and you could see the plan formulating in their head. You had no other choice but to sit up and hug their neck as they slowly started to back up to the other railing. Katja knew what was happening right away, but before she could yell out orders your horse sprinted forwards. You closed your eyes hugging your horse tighter as they jumped over the railing. Workers reached out for your horse or for you, but none of them caught you. Your horse neighed, and you screamed as you both began falling down to the water. The fall wasn’t bad you had hope you would survive, but if you didn’t then death by gravity or drowning was definitely much better than whatever Katja had planned for you. The witch leaned over the railing watching as you and your horse dove into the water. She straightened up no longer leaning against the railing when you disappeared into the waves. The woman didn’t walk away though she continued watching. Katja saw the current take you and your horse deep underwater. The waves quickly swept you both away from the rig. The witch laughed there was no way you would both survive. She would have liked to kill you herself but whatever it didn’t matter. All that mattered now was that you were dying anyways.

When you and your horse were in the water you opened your eyes. You looked around seeing that the water was dyed red by your blood. You held your breath not wanting to drown, and you tried not to panic. Your arms went limp you could feel and see yourself slipping away from your horse. You watched as your horse swam upwards. You tried to follow them, but you were too weak. You couldn’t swim you couldn’t even try your body was too tired. It gave you its all on the oil rig it had nothing to give to you now. You panicked as you realized you were going to drown. You had tried to stay calm, but you couldn’t hold fear back any longer. Your panic caused you to try to breathe which made the situation worse. You held your throat as water went into your mouth and nose. You felt cold as liquid started to fill your lungs. You kicked weakly trying to swim but you couldn’t. You blinked, and when you opened your eyes your fear grew. Your vision was getting worse. With each blink you took everything around you got darker and blurrier. The last thing you saw was your horse swimming above you. When you blinked for the last time your body went limp it was starting to shut down. You were unable to open your eyes again. Your eyelids were too heavy your body denied you any movement, and your lungs got colder and colder as water filled them. This was the end.

TY FOR READING! :D

[a-case-of-the-ace]

Fic writer interview :D

Thank you @eoinmcgonigal for the tag!!

Welp let's see how this goes. I've been doing the writing thing for a little over two years, I think? Time has flown and I have done... little.

How many works do you have on AO3? 21.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 57,611. None of which have reached over the 12,000 mark.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Something, Old, New, Broken and Blue at number 1, followed by Something Precious, a Bold Beginning, My Soul Says Ouch and Match Made in Vain. The top 3 are for Stranger Things, and the 4th and 5th are for Mafia: Definitive Edition. I reckon the top ones are at the top mainly because they're a bigger fandom.

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I do, I'm always so happy when I get them, but I worry I sound like a broken record. there's only so many ways to thank someone for reading and commenting, even though I'm overjoyed every time it happens.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? Possibly Ready for Table for Doctor Who's The Two Doctors, since that doesn't end in a good spot for the main character, but the canon story has a good ending, so you know it's going to be ok. Probably Bon Appetit, for Mafia: DE, since it's a dark yandere cannabilism fic.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending? That's a tough one, most of mine have happy endings. Possibly My Soul Says Ouch, since the characters spend so long pining over each other before getting together? Also my only polyam fic, (or at least where it's not just implied) so 50% extra love?

7. Do you write crossovers? I haven't, none have really occurred to me. I don't usually read them either, but if it's done well, I'll read it.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic? Not hate per se, but I did have one commenter who didn't like some things, and told me I could change things, and didn't need to stick to the canon. I quite liked my choices, though, and so did other kinder commenters. I do the fic for me, first and foremost.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Not in anything I've posted, but I'm currently writing a Galavant fic that has some, for angst reasons. I did have a tad in A Bold Beginning, but I danced around the subject so much that I don't think it counts. I'm ace, which I don't think helps much, I'm basing most of it off of what I've read.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope. Wouldn't mind if someone did though.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Nope.

13. What’s your all-time favourite ship? Mega tough one. Good Omens got me into it, but I haven't read much of them. Stobotnik, since I only watched the films for them? Two/Jamie? I read a lot of Johnlock, but that was ages ago. Geraskier? I think I just binge a ship and return to it if I really liked it. Depends if the ship's small or big, I guess.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? I had a mermaid!Tommy au I tried to get going for a long while, but kept getting stuck on logistics. An omegaverse mafia fic, an angsty guilt fic, and even a fic for Forever (TV show from 2014). Plus a bunch of ideas that hit while I was writing something else, and I'd lost the fixation by the time I finished. There's still a few sticky notes with ideas in my phone, from inspo at work. I think I get a lot more ideas than I manage to write :(

15. What are your writing strengths? Beginnings. I love nothing more than going "Bang! Here's what's happening." Otherwise, I dunno what my strengths might be. Writing in full sentences for the first draft?

16. What are your writing weaknesses? Hanging on to the motivation to finish a fic. Not using a variation of the phrase "All they could do was hope." Nearly put that in thrice in three chapters by mistake, I'm sure it's getting old. Motivation for sure though, I miss the days when I was writing tropey one-shots, at least they were one and done.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? I haven't really had a need to do it, and would worry about formatting if I did. Closest I've had to this was a heavily accented character, but I didn't really know how to write an accent and so I didn't write it in. Not sure if I'd do it that way again, but it made it easier.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for? Mafia: Definitive Edition. Wrote my first fic in one of my last year 12 math classes. Also the fandom that made me switch from looking at tumblr on Pinterest to actually being on tumblr. There wasn't enough content, so I had to go searching, and then make my own.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to? Really want to throw my hat into the ring on Wez/The Golden Youth, from Mad Max 2, but the only ideas I have for them are really long. Other ones I've considered writing include Forever, Red Dwarf, Sportarobbie from Lazytown, Johnny/Reg from SAS Rogue Heroes and Jude/Cardan from The Cruel Prince.

20. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written? I'm really liking the Galavant fic I'm writing at the moment, mainly because it's shamelessly self-indulgent. Probably one of my Mafia fics, Chosen by the Life, Choking on my Love or Bring Me Home. It's been a while since I've read my own stuff, this has been a real trip down memory lane.

Desperately trying to remember people who write so I can tag them... I'm so bad at names, if I miss you I'm sorry. And I may not know you at all well so I apologise if you find this weird.

@feline-ranger @iiep-wop @lilies-in-a-vase @somethingaboutamagpie @ihni

[yyunari]

hi! i really love your works and i think you’re immensely talented so i wanted to ask if you have any tips for new writers like me? tysm have a good day / afternoon / night <33 ^_^

omg hi !! thank u for reading my works i rly appreciate this ! <3 ​in general writing its a lot of figuring things out as u go and everyone’s always learning more, but here r some tips i have ^_^

- there’s a book called ‘put the cat in the oven before you describe the kitchen’ and that title within itself is good advice. if u want to do smt to keep readers invested, write an action that will make them curious and want to know more (sort of like a hook from english class)

- u don’t need to use adjectives for everything ! this is something i still need to practice as well, but usually it’s better if u only describe things unusual or important to the story, because if u do too much it can come off as confusing and overwhelming

- as ur writing/editing make sure to think abt it from a reader’s pov ! of course as the writers we know what’s going on and it’s easy to answer any questions that pop up, but sometimes those answers aren’t clear to the audience. when i proofread im usually overly skeptical to make sure everything makes sense, and it also helps to have peers proofread as well ! im always here if any1 needs someone to proofread a fic :)))

- and of course also think abt how u feel abt what ur writing. if u don’t like the story ur telling and feel compelled to write something else, don’t feel guilty abt not finishing immediately! telling the story u want to tell ensures that the end product is something u will be proud of, and if u gain inspiration for that old story again u can always go back to it!

- make sure to write in whatever style feels natural and right to u, and try not to force a certain writing style !! it gets easy to compare urself to others but the more u try to force ur works to be or sound a certain way, the easier it is to lose motivation for writing. of course u will learn a lot of new techniques and strategies the more u read and write more, but those come naturally !

- following that, reading is very helpful for developing ur writing. it can help u find out what works for u and what doesn’t, and what u enjoy writing. bc if u enjoy reading smt chances are ur going to enjoy writing it as well!

- and my biggest piece of advice is to just write when u feel inspo hit, let urself write what feels right and once u come up with something ur proud of (and u should always be proud of what u write bc writing is extremely hard ! remember, each work u post is an accomplishment) post it. even if u look back on it in a couple years and feel embarrassed, it was a learning experience and it made u the writer u are .

sry this is kind of a lot and also most of it doesn’t rly make sense but i hope this helps ! and if anyone else has any writing tips they want to share reply with some <33

[captainaikus]

Ohhh okay that’s a relief. No worries I’m not going anywhere!!! 😊😊 Just don’t forget to take breaks between all the hectic and busy stuff too okay?? I’m sure you’ll do great on your test 😤😤. AND YES YOURE TAKING BREAKS THATS AWESOME YOU ABSOLUTELY DESERVE THEM!!!! Ooooo which psychological horror movies if I may ask? Oh? 👀 Yandere Nagi you say?? 👀👀👀

I’ve been working on that surprise for you!!! I wanna edit it a bunch and make sure it’s as perfect as I can get it to be. Because half the time I either post my works at 4 am in the morning after speed writing after inspiration hit me or I look over it once and get tired halfway through the second time and just hit post adhjgfjjhhgfgghh 💀💀.

Thank youuuuu!!!! I was debating on which to pick of the thousand screenshots from my camera roll 😭😭. Very hard decision he looks gorgeous in literally every angle and lighting and scene like SIR??? I also changed the theme of my blog in honor of the first episode of the second season finally being released!! Tell me what you think 🥰. Surprisingly I haven’t made a single post abt the first episode yet because I’ve just been on a rebloging spree since it first came out. LET ME TELL YOU RN BELLE THE ROLLERCOASTER OF EMOTIONS I WENT THROUGH YESTERDAY AND LAST WEEK IT FELT LIKE MY BRAIN WAS ETERNALLY VIBRATING WITH EXCITEMENT ADHJHFGJHVCKK. Anyways ✨. I’m gonna be making sooooo many TR posts soon just you wait as soon as my energy goes down a bit enough for me to type abt it my entire page is gonna be full of TR ashkjfgkkfffjkgf you’ve been warned 😭😭💀. Remember to take breaks and drink water and eat snacks love!!! *sends many virtual*

- ✨ anon

*sigh of relief* my test was alright T.T Its news to everyone that I'm taking a break — and its also giving off the impression that i am a workaholic which isn't wrong... So i watched psycho and vertigo by alfred hitchcock... yes. i am THAT old (the shower scene in psycho is so iconic not to mention everyone was on a bates motel high) And yes. Yandere Nagi — based on another movie I watched (this one is pretty old too) but. the more i think about it... the more hotter the story is getting in my head. This might be a mini series tho — cause the storyline is damn complicated and i wanna take my time with it, write it well and then post it on my ao3. Ooohh I know that feeling !! Half the time I'm looking like a maniac typing away at 3 in the morning cause that's when my inspo kicks in and then i land up with less sleep. smh— You have me on the edge of my seat *wipes of sweat* but please take your time and don't rush !! And honestly? same with me too. I write things, don't feel like beta reading it. *reads it later* How do people even like this? o.o AND. I. ADORE. YOUR BLOG THEME!! Ahh !! Sunflowers!! And i lowkey think that everyone is starting to like kazutora but at the same time with the kind of character development he has? 100% deserves the thirst and I think i just got struck with an idea for him... *notes down*

Look at me creating work for myself — *sending hugs back*

[cwc-emoji-pluck]

yooooooo dude may i please request 🥐 with a side of ☁️?

member: yoon jeonghan x gn!reader genre: i don't think this is angst but it's definitely not fluff so...angst ig word count: 2142 warnings: none :P emojis requested: 🥐: social media star and follower ☁️: fifteen years later, seventeen go to their high school class reunion author's note: hello, bestie <3 this was originally supposed to be about seungcheol but jeongrot is a thing so here we are. this request was literally perfect for me so thank u for being a genius <3 i got inspo for this literally immediately so :))) i hope you enjoy this and happy jeonghan day !!!!!!!! (p.s. this is not edited please don't judge me <3)

“Are you going to be coming later? I didn’t take months out of my schedule to plan this just for my best friend to skip it! I even made sure we are going to be on the same team for all the activities!” 

Y/N sighed, holding their phone to their ear using their shoulder. Their laptop was in front of them, a Google Calendar open to their schedule for the next two weeks: each square was filled with meetings and events. 

“I don’t know, Mina. I don’t have a lot of time on my schedule. You said it’s on Saturday? What time?”

“Four! It’s from four to ten! I thought you wrote this down?”

Y/N began typing the information their best friend was giving into a new event. “You know I never actually write things down.” 

“Whatever, Y/N. You gotta be there,” Mina sighed tiredly.

“I’m trying, Mina.” Just then, a ding came through from Mina’s end of the phone. 

“Oh! I just got an RSVP back!” 

“Whose?” Y/N asked. 

“Oh my God! You’ll never believe it, Y/N!” 

“Just tell me who it was, Mina.” 

“It was Hannie! You remember? Yoon Jeonghan?” 

That name was not the one Y/N was expecting to hear. A flash of memories went through their head, one specifically standing out, the sound of his voice distinct in the memory.

You’re always going to say that you miss high school, Y/N. College is way more stressful: you have to make your own schedules as well as keeping a job, supporting yourself and doing things on your own. You move away from home and get all this weight on your shoulders. Everything is thrown at you in the matter of months. All I ask of you, darling, is that you do your best now, to get a head start on the best future you could have.

The only thing Y/N thought was being thrown at them at this point in their life was being forced to see Yoon Jeonghan again. It wasn’t that the two didn’t get along - no, it was far from that. It was just that Y/N is, understandably in their words, slightly upset with the man. 

As best friends, Y/N supported Jeonghan through everything, and now that he’s socially higher up than them, it hurts a bit; knowing that he basically forgot about them. Of course, Y/N could never be upset with their best friend. The two of them have been through way too much, Y/N just wishes that he tried a bit harder to keep them around. Or maybe Y/N was upset with themselves, that they didn’t try harder to keep Jeonghan around. 

The amount of messages that could have been sent or calls that could have been made over the past fifteen years, or even the amount of likes, and retweets depending on the app, that could have been shared between the two of you were forgotten as Jeonghan gained more followers and began leaving home more for his modeling. The idea of seeing him once again hit Y/N like a freight train.

y/n: are you sure yoon jeonghan is going to be there? 

Y/N was worried. They somehow managed to take the time off for the reunion, but it was a dreaded task, especially since Mina told them about the appearance Jeonghan would be making. Trying to mentally prepare themselves for seeing the man that forgot about his best friend was hard…how does someone prepare for that?

mina: yes, y/n. i’m sure he’s going to be there! and guess whattttt

y/n: what 

mina: he *didn’t* reserve a spot for a plus one

y/n: okay? what does this have to do with me? 

mina: you cannot tell me that one of the reasons why you were so heartbroken about hannie not talking to you was because you weren’t in love with the guy 

y/n: i wasn’t in love with the guy, he was just my best friend, Mina. i know it’s going to hurt when i see him again.

mina: yeah, yeah. just get your feelings sorted out and make sure not to make a scene at this event that your best friend (aka me, not hannie) has worked so hard on <3 

y/n: if all you’re worried about is whether or not i’m going to be there…chill. i’ll be there. just don’t expect me to agree to talk to jeonghan so suddenly. i’ll probably hang with joshua while you’re busy. 

mina: joshua hong? since when did you talk to him? 

y/n: i…talked to him enough to want to see him after fifteen years. 

mina: didn’t he have a thing for you? why do i have distinct memories of hannie trying to fight him?

y/n: nOTHING HAPPENED. 

y/n: the end. i’m going to bed now 

mina: y/n come back

mina: …y/n? mina: damn you, y/n.

Knowing that Mina was the one who put all of this together was the only thing that kept Y/N from staying home and opening their laptop once again. Though, that didn’t stop Y/N from having a plethora of excuses they wish they could use in order to stay home. 

First, the almost two hour drive to the venue from Y/N’s apartment. Of course, this would mean nothing to Mina as they were carpooling. Second, the lack of formal-enough but also casual-enough clothes to wear. Though, once again this would be no issue for Mina, as she always has something up her sleeve. Lastly, the biggest excuse of them all: Yoon Jeonghan. Was Y/N really ready to see their dreaded best friend after so long? No. Was he still deserving of the best friend title? According to Y/N, yes. According to Mina, no. 

That’s just something Mina has to get over. 

Mina, being the best friend she was, helped Y/N pick out the perfect outfit: something that proves that they had a good job and did not peak in high school, as well as making sure that same outfit wasn’t too eccentric for such an event. Being the perfect fashion designer she was, Mina did not fail to pick out the best outfit that not only looked amazing on Y/N, but also one that was perfect for all of the activities she and the rest of the reunion board had chosen for the event. 

“He’s gonna think you look great, Y/N.”

Y/N picked up the shirt that was laying on the bed closest to them and threw it across the room at Mina. It flew and missed Mina completely. “I am not dressing up for him! I don’t care what he thinks!” 

Mina laughed. “Okay well, hurry up and clean up because we have to get going.” 

“I didn’t even make the mess, you’re the one who took all my clothes off their hangers,” Y/N frowned. “It’s whatever I’ll just pick up when I get back.”

“I didn’t think you’d get so busy that we would rarely be able to meet, Y/N.” 

Y/N looked over to Joshua as he said this, a small smile on their face. “Trust me, I wasn’t expecting it either. And don’t tell Mina this but I’m happy she went through the work to set this up. I’m excited to see everyone again.” 

Joshua chuckled a bit. “Have you seen Seungcheol lately?” 

“I saw him a couple months ago at this cafe I go to a lot but I haven’t seen him since.” Y/N replied, tapping the transparent plastic cup they were holding. 

“I heard he’s been hanging out a lot with,” Joshua paused. “…Nevermind.” 

“Jeonghan? That wouldn’t surprise me. They were always close, weren’t they?”

“Heh, yeah. They were. I mean, before uh, he left.” 

Y/N looked over at their friend, “You know you can say his name. It’s not like he’s Voldemort or something.” 

“I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I mean, having someone you’re that in love with leave so sudden-”

“Why does everyone think I was in love with Jeonghan!”

“Probably because you were,” someone wrapped their arms around Y/N’s shoulders. “Even if you didn’t see it, everyone else did.” 

Joshua smiled. “Hey Cheol, we were just talking about you!” 

The man, Seungcheol, grinned and blushed a bit. “Hey, Shua. It’s nice to see you.” Seungcheol looked over at Y/N. “By the way, if you want to talk to him, he’s over there with Jimin and Taehyung. Says he was hoping to be able to talk to you tonight.”

*************

He looked exactly like he did in his Instagram post Mina had sent Y/N this morning. His natural hair covered by a yellow bucket hat, and the baggy jacket he was wearing hanging off his shoulders like he was in a photoshoot and not at a high school reunion. 

Y/N didn’t dare to step towards the man, scared of any type of confrontation that may have been about fifteen years too late. It was only when they heard Park Jimin call their name from where he stood next to Jeonghan and Taehyung that they dared to make eye contact with any of the three. 

Jimin motioned for Y/N to cross the room towards their three classmates, and Y/N had no choice other than to walk towards them (especially since Joshua and Seungcheol were watching this whole encounter from next to Y/N, daring to give them a little push on the back to get them to start walking). 

“Hi, Y/N! It’s so nice to see you!” Jimin gave Y/N an eye-smile while Taehyung waved. Jeonghan just stood there, not knowing what to say. 

“Hey!” Y/N was breathless. They weren’t sure whether it was because of the lack of space in the room for normal movement or the fear of being this close to Jeonghan. 

Y/N looked over to Jeonghan and shot him a quick smile, hoping that it was so fast he wouldn’t have even noticed it. 

Sadly he did. Jimin and Taehyung also must have noticed it, as they quickly made basic conversation before they awkwardly excused themselves to go find someone who they refused to name. 

That just left Y/N with Jeeonghan. 

Jeonghan coughed. “Um. Hey, Y/N.” 

“Hey.” 

The two stood there for a few seconds in awkward silence. 

“Look, I’m really sorry, Y/N,” Jeonghan set the cup he was holding down onto the snack table they stood next to. “I didn’t mean to basically ghost you. I just wasn’t expecting to get so busy so quickly and then…yeah.” 

“It’s whatever. I mean, I guess I’m kind of over it? Mina is definitely not but, yeah I just…don’t think it’s that big of a deal? I mean, it's been how long?”

Jeonghan nodded. “Well, I mean, we were best friends and I still lo- like your company just as much as I did then.” 

“Thank you for your apology, then. I never really stopped considering you my best friend, you know.” 

Jeonghan smiled. “Then I guess it’s time to finally go pull more pranks on Joshua and Seungcheol?” 

“If you break anything, Mina will be so pissed at you.”

It didn’t take long for Jeonghan to tell Y/N, as well as Joshua, Seungcheol and Mina that he got a contract closer to home. Of course, he was going to miss all the traveling, but he knew it would be good for Y/N and his friendship that he stayed. 

Otherwise, Jeonghan thought, how is he going to get Y/N to finally admit to their feelings for him? He clearly remembered overhearing the conversation Y/N and Seungcheol had the night of the reunion. 

“You did like him though, didn’t you?” Seungcheol questioned Y/N as he was filling up their cup. “I mean, everyone could tell back in high school that your friendship wasn’t just a friendship.” 

“I mean, yeah. I did like him back in high school but…it’s been years. He’s got more things to worry about now, like his career, rather than worrying about his best friend falling in love with him.” Y/N took a sip out of their freshly refilled cup. 

“I bet you anything, that if you walked up to him and told him you were still in love with him, he would drop everything for you. He regrets his decision to leave because of what it did to you guys.” 

“Seungcheol, I don’t know. I mean, today is the first time I’ve seen him since graduation…I don’t want to ruin anything else.” 

“So you admit to it? That you’re still in love with him?”

Y/N thought for a bit. “Of course. How could I not be?”

[thegeminisage]

BROKEN ROAD MASTERPOST

BROKEN ROAD ON AO3

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Additional Tags: Episode: s14e13 Lebanon, Fix-It, John Winchester’s A+ Parenting, Dean Winchester-centric, Past Child Abuse, Apocalypseverse Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, Ma'lak Box (Supernatural), Asexual Castiel (Supernatural), Bisexual Dean Winchester, Former Prostitute Dean Winchester, Trauma, Suicidal Thoughts, Healing, Dean Winchester’s 40th Birthday, dumb fucking car metaphors because dean’s a driving gay

A 14.13 Lebanon rewrite. When Dean uses a wish-granting pearl to try and kill the archangel Michael before he can escape the cage in Dean’s head, they instead wind up with a newly-resurrected John Winchester.

It’s been more than a decade since John died, and a lot has changed: Mary is alive, Sam and Dean have what passes for a proper home in the Men of Letters Bunker, and they’re living with angels. John doesn’t know angels are real, he doesn’t know about the fragile new relationship between Dean and Castiel, and most of all, he doesn’t know that Dean said yes to Michael, or that Dean’s plan to defeat Michael would send him to a fate worse than death.

Now Dean must contend with both his father asking questions he can’t answer, and his loved ones learning about the darker truths of his childhood, all while constantly battling the archangel trapped inside him. But Dean coming to terms with his history may be the difference between this being the beginning of a journey—or the end.

CHAPTERS ON TUMBLR: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7.

TUMBLR LINKS:

#brcu - “broken road cinematic universe,” for fanworks & inspo posts

#br meta - for posts talking about the fic/subjects related to the fic

#br memes - for shitposts.

#broken road - general story tags that contains all of the above and then some, including excerpts/rough drafts, general liveblogging, & asks.

FANWORK/”INSPIRED BY” LINKS:

i do have the inspo tag, but the fact that i have fanworks is so cool i wanted to make a special section for them. if you said publicly or privately that your thing was inspired by my thing, i am adding you here to give you publicity and TUMBLR FAME, but if you don’t want your link here, just hit me up and no hard feelings! if you make a thing inspired by my thing, or if i forgot to add your thing (or, much more likely, if i didn’t want to be utterly presumptuous by assuming it was for me 👉👈), you can also send me a message about that. i’m happy to have as many links here as possible!

broken road: a john & dean playlist (this one’s mine, there’s a version on both 8tracks & spotify)

john & dean graphic to submersed’s “hollow” (also mine)

graphic about the winchesters cleaning up messes (mine again)

fic cover art by @bibophilophile

chapter 1 graphic of the john/mary reunion by @thrivenotsurvive  

fanart/graphic set of the dean/cas moments from chapters 2 & 3 by @bibophilophile

tragedynatural edits by @brownbicon - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7  

improved table initials from chapter 4 by @theprincessandthepie

chapter 4 dean/cas fanart by @bibophilophile

chapter 6 fanart by @your-local-granny

post-chapter 6 dean & cas hug by @skepticalfrog

post-chapter 6 dean & everyone hugs by @skepticalfrog

don’t be him, a fanvid about breaking the cycle of abuse by @theprincessandthepie

i love you to the exclusion/inclusion of all others: john/mary and dean/cas graphics by @alittlescaredoflife

john & dean graphic to sinéad morrissey's “forgive us our trespasses” by @tiarnanafainne

graphic to wye oak’s “mary is mary” by @renegademp3

STUNNING visual art of the dean/cas chapter 3 sex scene by ultimate destiel stan @maulthots​ 

an absolutely breathtaking PHYSICAL COPY of broken road by @runawaymarbles

META LINKS:

yes, i have a meta tag, i just thought these were of particular relevance: 

family dinner from hell seating arrangements

john’s journal, especially flagstaff, and also john abusing dean into unwittingly perpetuating sam’s abuse

mission statement of broken road

john abused both dean AND sam, just differently + related post by @alittlescaredoflife

who had to grow up faster, sam or dean?

the tragedy of john is that he ISN’T 100% evil, and he USED to be a good person (related post 1, related post 2, related post 3)

john & dean & “why does he do that?” by lundy bancroft

how john gave dean his voice back

who really owns the impala and why dean can’t drive it when john’s around

even after everything, sam was still prepared to be kind to his father (feat. @maulthots​)

sam hasn’t actually forgiven john, he’s “gray rock”ing

mary as john’s impulse control / the subtle way john unknowingly shifts blame to mary / john’s love for mary makes him into both the best and the worst version of himself

john & cas parallels  / john & cas have the exact same opinion of one another (part 1, part 2)

how sexually violent language ties into john’s abuse

“warts and all”

the number nine

broken road’s creation process, start to finish

what happens after the end

...and that’s all she wrote! it’s been a real trip - thank you all so, so much for riding shotgun with me <3

[spn masterpost]

[peachyteabuck]

what is a quilt purist, please go off

oh my god oh my GOD - this is less abt craft puritans and more about what happened but like. hear me out.

i don't even know where to begin because it's genuinely so insane.

so okay. for context: in the crafting community there are a LOT of very weirdly strict people (mostly white women) who are dedicated to being the Absolute Worst. like, PINNACLE of being a karen. in quilting they only care about one type of quilt, and any other type of quilt (t shirt quilts come to mind) aren't "real" quilts

this is insane for like, 2 main reasons.

1) quilting refers to a WAY OF DOING SOMETHING (e.g. vera wang products are quilted but not quilts) not necessarily a specific physical craft

2) the way quilting has been done has changed A TON over time. in the 90s "mock quilts" became popular, where the quilt top was printed on a single piece of fabric, the crazy quilt vs. crumb quilt distinction, the invention of long arms, mass produced fabric, the transition of monetizing patterns. like quilting has been around for AWHILE (long enough i'm promised a 300 year old quilt in my mother's will), but how i quilt today is different from how people quilted then, and i (a person who does everything by hand) quilts different from someone who does everything with a machine. there are people who don't use "real" batting, instead using thick vintage blankets.

so anyway. there was a thread in this quilting group of animals on the quilts people had made. and obvi im gonna post this pic of cowboy because like

because LOOK AT HIM!! this is one of my favorite pictures of him.

so i post this, and then shit hits the FAN

within minutes i've got at least 3 women in the comment thread barating me for

wait for it

having this quilt on the floor

and for awhile i was like - hey listen, my cat is old, this is when i first got him and he wasn't very confident jumping on things. he wanted to hang out with me but didn't have a place to be other than the floor, and so i put this decently small/bulky quilt down. it's made of blocks MY GRANDMOTHER MADE that i inherited, and is really small and made especially for him with really thick batting (the inside of a quilt). plus (PLUS!!!)

PLUS

I TOOK THIS PIC TODAY. OVER A YEAR AND A HALF, TWO APARTMENTS, HUNDREDS OF WASHINGS. THIS IS HAS LAST ME OVER A YEAR AND A FUCKING HALF. IT'S FINE. IT'S FUCKING FINE. IT NEEDS TO BE DARNED IN LIKE 2 SPOTS BUT IT'S FUCKING FINE!!!

but eventually im like ?? okay, this is just fucking weird. like all yalls facebooks are decently public, y'all either got kids to raise or retirements to enjoy. why are you arguing with some rando on facebook about the proper way to "take care" of a quilt when it's still washed properly and kept out of the sun.

so like 2 hours later with breaks to do my job im kicked out of this quilting group that i really only used for inspo pics, with like 3 new friends added on facebook because not everyone is down to clown with narrow definitions of their hobbies.

EDIT: saw this right before posting

okay TECHNICALLY i answered this above but for clarities sake:

quilting is a technique that refers to something done with three layers:

top layer

middle layer (normally batting, this layer is not seen)

bottom layer

it's common to refer to quilts as a blanket "sandwich," but that's not really accurate because the inside is hidden as the edges are combines with bias tape. it's really a fabric uncrustable.

these layers are held together with basting, which is the stitches you feel that go through all three years.

the little squares you're referring to are "blocks," which just refers to the individual pieces that come together to make a quilt top. there are several methods of putting blocks together that aren't relevant, and some blocks are more complicated than others, but it's like how puzzles are made of puzzle pieces.

so yeah. quilting puritanism. it's fucking insane. and very very dumb.