#this was precious and so creative

[witchrecs]

“Wrong,” Rafe answers, “I don’t mind that shit at all.”

WE KNOWWWW omg

"Worse. He's being respectful of my boundaries."

Oh shit. I fucking knew this was a bad idea."

HES SO FUNNY

"Are you wearing those Lululemon pants right now? Point is, I'm thinking about your ass in those Lululemon pants right now."

LMAO

And, boy, you got her

synopsis Rafe’s in charge of the pledges during Rush Week. Hazing isn’t a thing. Making you feel so high school is.

wc 3.6K

a/n omgggg Euro Trip Rafe <3333 I was living on pledgetok last week and just couldn’t not write something about it

“Holy shit,” Noah mutters, surveying the crowd over his red cup, “I swear they get scrawnier every single year.”

Rafe nods gravely, taking a pull of his beer. “It’s fucking grim.”

“Like — fuck, look at those two.” Noah gestures toward the shaded veranda, a fresh coat of gloss making its balustrades shine. Huddled in one corner, attempting to take up as little space as possible, two boys donning UNC merch survey the crowd in tandem. “We weren’t that fucking scraggy as freshman, were we?”

“You two weren’t,” Kelce snorts, coming up behind them. Topper brings up his rear, mid-bite of his loaded hotdog. “Thornton definitely was though.”

“Oi!” Topper protests, his words garbled by half chewed sausage. “S’wasn’t that bad. C’mon.” He turns to Rafe then, swallowing his mouthful. “But seriously, you locked in any potentials?”

Rafe furrows his brow thoughtfully, looking back over Delta Chi’s yard. Unsurprisingly, it’s far too early to say. Though the barbecue that they’re hosting is a good way for pledges to mingle, it isn’t exactly hazing material; they’re going to have to get creative.

“Maybe,” he replies finally, shrugging. “We’ll just have to see I guess.”

He tips back his red cup again, swallowing the last dregs of beer before acquiescing. As he’s about to announce his need for a refill, a few pledges sidle up to their group, looking hopeful.

Not overtly, of course. Painstakingly hiding their eagerness behind an armour of insouciance.

“Rafe,” the tallest of the three greets, handing him another red cup. The golden liquid inside it brims to the surface, its white foam dissolving in mocking. “Hey, bro. You need another?”

Rafe raises his eyebrows, hiding a grin. “Shit. Table service already?”

The boy grins in tandem, looking a little sheepish. “Big fan, man. I’m Dylan.” He motions at the two guys on either side of him, wearing matching squints and backwards caps. “This is Rahul and Xav, we’re all here from Trinity.”

“Durham and Chapel Hill?” Noah enquires, whistling approvingly when they nod. “Fuck, we used to love having away games there. Those Trin cheerleaders…”

“Haha, shit, what was that chic’s name again?” Rafe asks then, a pull of mirth as he turns to Noah. “The one you messed around with in junior year?”

“Blake,” Noah answers, groaning in a mock-wistful sort of way. “They didn’t make ‘em like her at the Academy.”

Rafe snorts, sending the pledges a sage glance. “Nah. They made ‘em better.”

Noah raises his eyebrows, his brown eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, so we are allowed to objectify your girl then, Cameron?”

“Damn, so you’re tied down?” Xavier pipes up, his voice gravelly and low on purpose. Overtly masculine, like he’s trying hard to be red-blooded. “Your girl doesn’t mind you partying?”

Rafe frowns. “Why would she mind?”

“Uh,” Xavier balks, pulling at the bill of his backwards cap, “shit. I don’t know… like, doesn’t she get pissed that you’re constantly around sorority girls?”

“HA —” Topper laughs, and then he falters, thwarted by Rafe’s warning glower. “Uh.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just say Cameron doesn’t give her any reasons to be suspicious.”

“Because he’s obsessed with her,” Noah adds, unperturbed by Rafe’s expression. He pauses then, an amusing idea popping into his head. “Which means…” he continues, returning Rafe’s glare with a trust me one of his own, “you guys should be too.”

Rafe doesn’t trust him. Like, at all. He sends him a bewildered look, unsure where he’s going with this. “White — what?”

Noah ignores him. He downs his beer and crushes the red cup in his hand, deftly aiming it at the nearest bag of trash. “So,” he says, eyeing the three pledges with interest. “How serious are you guys about rushing Delt?”

“Pretty serious, bro,” Rahul answers, looking to his friends for support. “Think we got a shot?”

Noah throws his arm around Rafe’s neck, his strong bicep taut as he shoots them a grin. “Depends, man, I might know how we could figure that out though.” He begins to steer Rafe away from them, sending one last, faux-somber look over his shoulder. “Be right back, yeah?”

Rafe, whose bewilderment is quickly giving way curiosity, allows himself to be marshalled out of earshot without complaints.

He shrugs Noah off of him once they’re on the verandah, his features ever-bemused as he turns toward him. “The fuck was that about?”

“Bro, I know exactly how we’re going to haze these motherfuckers,” Noah replies, his voice lilted with mirth. “You know… without breaking any rules.”

The bewildered expression on Rafe’s face doesn’t acquiesce. “Okay… how?”

“Instead of getting them to be our bitches,” he answers, a mischievous grin making home on his features. “We’re going to get them to be our girlfriends’ bitches.”

Rafe frowns. “Bro. What?”

“Cameron, it’s perfect.” He swipes Rafe’s beer from his hand and takes a generous pull. “What do frat guys hate more than being called scrawny as fuck?”

“Uh. Doing assignments?” Rafe answers blankly, still frowning. He doesn’t have it in him to think too hard about Noah’s profferance. He’s on hour two of manning this boring event, hour four since he bid you farewell, and all Rafe can bear to think about right now is the imminent taste of your peach-scented lips.

Noah shakes his head. “No, dumbass. Being called a simp.”

“Wrong,” Rafe answers, “I don’t mind that shit at all.”

“You’re the exception,” Noah replies matter-of-factly. “You and Y/N have always been the exception. C’mon, I’m talking about us,” he places his palm over his breastbone solemnly, “mere mortals.”

Rafe narrows his eyes. “Fuck off. How would that even work?”

“We…” Noah pauses to think, a slightly furrow to his brow, “alright, I got it. We assign the pledges to our girlfriends, one by one. Give them a week to make a good impression — you know, carry their bags, buy them flowers, all that sentimental crap you love.”

“You really think the guys’ll agree to this?” Rafe asks, sounding reluctant. “I mean… I don’t know if I’m alright with a bunch of idiots holding doors for my girl.”

“But you’re an idiot that holds a door for your girl,” Noah answers, not missing a beat.

“Fuck off, White.”

“I’m serious. It’ll be funny. And look… if you’re worried about Y/N, I know she’ll find it adorable as fuck.”

Rafe shakes his head. “No way. She didn’t find high-school me adorable.”

Noah raises his eyebrows skeptically. “You’d be surprised, man. Besides, these guys aren’t going to be like high-school you. High-school you was a douchebag.”

“A douchebag who got the girl.”

“A douchebag who got the girl after he stopped acting like a douchebag.” Noah smirks then. “A douchebag who’d give all these fuckers a run for their money if he was pledging Delt this year.”

Rafe grins in tandem, stealing his beer back to take a big swig. “Alright, shit, alright. Harmless shit though, right? Chivalry and all that?”

“Harmless as hell,” Noah agrees. “C’mon. You really think any of these guys has the balls to make a pass at one of our girls?”

“Easy for you to say, White. You don’t fucking have a girl.”

Noah frowns. “What d’you mean? Aren’t we going halves on Y/N?”

“Holy fuck, Noah,” Rafe groans, almost spitting out his mouthful of beer. “If Y/N heard the shit you said when she wasn’t around, she’d probably kill you.”

“Nah,” Noah replies, seemingly unperturbed. “She loves me.”

“Well,” Rafe says grimly, crushing his own empty cup in his head. “She might do now, but she sure as hell won’t by the end of this week.”

—

The first time it happens, you’re understandably perplexed.

You’re en-route to your 9AM, bag strap denting your left shoulder, when a stranger falls into your step and swipes it from your figure. It’s a motion so quick and deft you initially think you’re getting mugged.

As you double back in bewilderment, he proffers, “you alright with this?”

“Uh.” You balk. “What?”

“Your bag,” he answers, readjusting it on his own shoulder. He seems earnest. Nervous, even. “It looked heavy. I can carry it to class for you, if you want?”

You allow a pause to take him in.

“No, I’m…” another pause, more of his demeanour on display. Backwards cap, crisp white polo shirt, smile lines exposing the ghost of a grin on his face. A familiar grin, the kind that pulls a soft, maudlin feeling from your ribcage. “Look, if you’re trying to hit on me —”

“No, no,” he interrupts quickly, his eyes widening in a panic. “Shit — no, don’t tell Cameron I’m hitting on you. I’m just…”

“Wait a minute,” your eyes narrow accusatorially, because of course he’s behind this chivalrous display, “you know my boyfriend?”

The stranger grimaces sheepishly. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Explain.”

“It’s… uh… well — basically, I’m pledging Delt,” he answers haltingly, self effacement juxtaposing his frat boy exterior. “Rafe’s asked us to be all gentlemanly and shit for pledge week, I don’t know. To you guys, I mean. Like… the current frat member’s girls?”

“Oh my god,” you groan. “No he hasn’t.”

“Shit.” He looks far more nervous now that he did five minutes ago. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No,” you grumble, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “No he did not.”

Rafe’s on speed dial. He picks up on the first ring, the way he always does for you.

“Hey baby,” his gravelly timbre crackles through the phone, the low hum of frat house chatter audible in the background. “What’s up?”

“Don’t even. You know what’s up Rafael.”

A pause. When Rafe speaks again, his voice is quick and placating. “It was Noah’s idea.”

“Of course it was.”

“Dylan’s not playing up, is he?”

You raise your eyebrows at the stranger then, assessing him faux-suspiciously. “No way. He’s doing a better job than you ever did in high school.”

“Woah woah woah,” Rafe replies, a playful lilt to his tone. “That fucker’s not calling you dream girl or something, is he?”

“Worse. He’s being respectful of my boundaries.”

“Oh shit. I fucking knew this was a bad idea.”

You shake your head in exasperation, trying not to laugh. The poor stranger’s still standing there at attention, your leather bag looking ridiculous on his arm. “Rafe. Tell me he’s the only one.”

“He’s one…” Rafe starts slowly, sounding sheepish, “of three. Four, counting me.” In the background, you hear Noah pipe up and add, “five, Cameron. How could you forget me?”

“You’re un-fucking-believable, Noah White,” you shout through the phone.

“I love you too, Y/N,” Noah sings, and then he groans, no doubt shoved to the side by his indignant best friend. It’s Rafe on the phone again, voice sweet and thick as molasses as he says, “they’ll behave, baby, and make your life easier in the process. I promise.”

“What?” You accuse, fighting back a smile. “Like you did in high school?”

“Fuck no,” he replies, the grin on his face audible. “They’ll be nothing like I was, sweetheart.”

“What?” You tease. “Absolutely insufferable?”

“And absolutely in love with you.”

You raise your eyebrows. “How can you be so sure?”

“They’re under strict instruction. Have a shiner waiting for them if they pull something funny.”

Another exasperated laugh bubbles out of you, and you begin walking forward again, motioning at the boy named Dylan to follow in your step. “Right. So the boundaries are on purpose, are they?”

“The respect, too. No being inappropriate and charming at the same time.”

“And why not?” You ask faux-indignantly. “What if I like being objectified?”

“Can’t have you falling in love with them, can I?”

“Hey,” you argue, frowning stubbornly. “That is not what made me fall in love with you.”

“It isn’t?”

“Well,” you balk, “not solely that.”

“You’re fucking sexy,” he recites devotedly, almost yells, and you can hear the collective groan of his frat brothers in the background. “Are you wearing those Lululemon pants right now? Point is, I’m thinking about your ass in those Lululemon pants right now.”

“Rafe, I was fucking kidding. Stop.”

“No you weren’t.” You know he’s right; you can picture that stupid smirk on his face. It makes your cheeks warm. Asshole. “You’re blushing now, aren’t you?”

“Anyway.”

“Anyway,” Rafe agrees. “No funny business, alright? Just lots of good deeds.”

Good deeds. You suppose you could get used to good deeds, the embarrassment of attention notwithstanding.

You let out a defeated sigh, halting in front of your 9AM class. “You so, so owe me.”

“I so, so love you,” Rafe replies, and it makes your pulse leap; you’ll never get used to this feeling. “See you later, yeah?”

“Uh huh. Love you.”

Dylan waits until you’ve ended the call before saying farewell, dutifully handing your leather bag back to you and giving you a mock salute. The way he does it, all sheepish and genuine with a charming smile on his face, makes your heart twinge in a junior year of high-school sort of way. You’re feeling sentimental. It’s sweet.

You’re reminded of Rafe before he was yours, stumbling over himself to win your favour. Confusing chivalry with courting, objectifying you in the name of flirting.

Insufferable, but sweet nonetheless. You digress.

—

The next time it happens, you’re ambushed at your favourite cafe.

A dutiful Delta Phi pledge has already queued up and purchased you coffee, handing it over to you with a blushing bouquet of tulips.

You raise your eyebrows at him questioningly. “Is that…?”

“Uh, an oat iced coffee with vanilla?” He asks, sounding nervous. “I asked Cameron for your order.”

“Didn’t ask me about pastries, though,” a voice behind you adds, rough and familiar with a sweetness around the edges. Rafe circles your waist with ease and pulls you into his chest, sponging a soft kiss to your temple before handing you a brown bag.

A glossy, Daily Bread sticker shines on its exterior proudly.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you look up at him expectantly. “Tell me you didn’t drive back home for a single croissant.”

“I didn’t drive back home for a single croissant,” Rafe replies. He grins then, looking that same, sheepish genuine that pulls a maudlin feeling. “I drove back home for twenty.”

“Rafe. Why?”

“Because you like Daily Bread,” he replies matter-of-factly, like it’s obvious.

You shake your head in exasperation, tip-toeing up to press a quick kiss to his lips. It becomes less quick against better judgement. He tastes like spearmint gum and cold brew, the hand he has held to your waist tightening ever so slightly. Slipping under your shirt, massaging the soft skin he finds there expertly, discreetly. Too much for 8am on a Wednesday morning, sans coffee. Your face feels on fire. You pull away in a hurry.

Meanwhile, the freshman pledge balks at the exchange, looking out of place.

Rafe frowns bemusedly at your diffidence, only clocking the reason when you nod over at him.

“I’ll walk her over Ben,” he says, dismissing him. “You’re off the hook, bro.”

“Shit.” The boy named Ben grimaces; he needs to get his hours in, and doesn’t deem this a fair ambush. He scrambles for an excuse. “Right. Can I still give her the flowers?”

“Of course you can,” you beam, accepting them gratefully. You look up at Rafe then, asking, “And if I want to walk with Benjamin?”

Rafe grins down at you, disbelieving. “Do you, baby?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” you say, wriggling out of his grasp. “He got me flowers.”

Rafe falters, his eyes widening in surprise. “Sweetheart, I got you a croissant.”

“Ben got me a coffee,” you hedge. “And flowers.”

“Y/N,” he placates.

“Rafael,” you echo, unperturbed by his exasperation. You take a sip your coffee. “I’ll see you later, okay? Ben’s ticking off a good deed this morning.”

Poor Ben looks helpless, taking the brunt of Rafe’s glare as you motion for him to hold the door for you.

“C’mon Ben, we’re going to be late.”

“But…” Ben pauses, his eyes flitting to Rafe nervously. “This is fine, right?”

Rafe sighs, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth in defeat. “Yeah, bro. You’re good.” He looks to you, then. “You’re unbelievable.”

You smile sweetly. “I’m wearing the Lulu leggings.”

“Oh I noticed,” Rafe replies, his blue eyes falling down your figure in slow, reverent paces. “It’s why I want to be the one holding the door for you.”

You roll your eyes. “Men only want one thing.”

Rafe grins. “Yeah. You.”

—

By the end of the week, you’re more used to the chivalry than you’re willing to admit.

You’ve enjoyed free iced lattes and filled your dorm with gorgeous bouquets, no door left unopened and no walk to class left unescorted. And really, every pledge you’ve come across has been pleasant and unassuming, albeit absolutely terrified of Rafe and therefore extra obliging on instinct.

They’ve even offered to do favours for you, got you into sought after Pilates classes and done last minute grocery runs on your behalf. It’s put you in this constant state of mild exasperation, like you can’t believe you’re worthy of this much love and chivalry.

It’s exactly the way you felt back in high-school with Rafe, and this revelation pulls lots of funny feelings from your stomach, from your chest. Feelings you’ve forgotten that are all yours and all his. Because it’s strange, having someone other than Rafe taking care of you. (Or Noah.) It’s strange because it makes you realise just how much he adored you back in the day.

These emotions come to a head at the pledge week closing bash, Delta Phi lit up with fluorescent lights in technicolour. Inebriation ensues, beer pong follows, and an impromptu DJ deck plays endless songs with heavy bass.

Rafe Cameron has you pulled close, as always, the taut muscle of his forearm pressing heat to your exposed waist. You’re a few drinks down and hyperaware of his proximity, ankles touching, thighs too, torsos close with your head resting on his shoulder.

“I think I like Dylan the best,” you announce suddenly.

“Yeah?” Rafe asks, kneading your skin absentmindedly.

You nod. “He’s sweet. Told me all about his girl back home.”

Rafe grins then, shaking his head bemusedly. “You’re such a sucker for love, sweetheart.”

“Hey!” You glare up at him faux-incensed, looking accusatory. “So are you!”

“Shhhh,” Rafe murmurs playfully. “Not so loud, you’ll fuck up my street cred.”

You scoff. “Since when do you care about street cred?”

“Shit, you’re right,” Rafe agrees easily, leaning down to draw your lips in for a kiss. He’s all patchouli and musk, beer on his tongue and unchaste intentions in his touch. When he pulls away, his lips are still an inch from yours, his voice rougher than it was a second ago, “I don’t care. Like, at fucking all.”

“Good,” Noah snorts from behind him. “‘Cause you never had any to begin with, bro.”

“There you are,” you say then, eyeing Noah over Rafe’s shoulder. There’s a mock accusatory expression on your face, softened by mirth and the alcohol on your lips. “Have you been hiding from me, White?”

Noah grins sheepishly, taking a pull of his beer. “Maybe.”

You narrow your eyes. “Tell me. When did you become worse than Rafael?”

“I didn’t become worse!” Noah insists. “He just became better. You know, after he got the girl.”

You make a face. “Smooth.”

“Hey,” Noah raises his arms in surrender, looking faux-somber, “someone’s gotta teach the next generation, don’t they? I’m committed to their education.” He raises his eyebrows then, a mischievous glint in his eye. “C’mon, don’t act like you didn’t love it.”

Rafe grins. “She totally fucking loved it.”

You aim a glare at the pair of them, failing miserably at hiding your amusement. “So maybe I didn’t mind it. Sue me.”

“Of course you loved it,” Noah says, throwing his arm around you and pulling you into his side. “You love Cameron, don’t you?”

You narrow your eyes. “Opinions vary.”

“You love me?” Noah tries.

“You fucking wish.”

“Everyone fucking wishes,” Rafe says then, throwing his arm around you too, your figure wedged between the pair of them. Frat boy sandwich, you think tiredly. If high-school you could see you now, you’re pretty sure she’d have an aneurysm. “Especially when you’re in Lululemon.”

“Rafe.”

“I’m kidding. Not really. They all love you, you know that, yeah?”

You look up at him questioningly. “The pledges?”

“Uh huh,” Rafe replies, raising his eyebrows at you. “This is what I was afraid of, you know.”

“What?” You ask, lifting yours in tandem.

“Everyone falling in love with you, like I did in high school.”

You scrunch up your nose at him, your cheeks warming in diffidence. “No one’s fallen in love with me, don’t be silly.”

“I have,” Noah pipes up unhelpfully.

“Shut up, Noah. I saw you talking to Georgia just before.”

Noah grins, pulling away and offering you a mock salute. “Guilty as charged.” He turns to survey the crowd, spotting her figure on the fairy-light lit porch. “Speaking of…”

And he’s gone before you’re able to tease him any further, leaving Rafe to guide you out of his side and into his chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, his hands exerting a warm, steady pressure into the curve of your waist.

“As I was saying,” you continue, frowning up at him playfully. “No one’s fallen in love with me.”

Rafe’s unconvinced. His gaze skates down your figure again, a tortured groan falling from his throat. “Have you seen you, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, face hot and self conscious. “And even if they have,” you add, “it doesn’t matter.”

Rafe raises his eyebrows. “It doesn’t?”

“No way. Because I’m in love with you, not any of them.”

Rafe grins then, a devastatingly handsome look on his face. “I’ll never get used to hearing that.”

“I’ll never get used to saying it.”

[lilkikayart]

Starting the year off with Wangjue art I cooked up! Listen to LQR and go to ao3 to see more.

I mentioned it there, but I am dedicating this fanart to @riikaa-chan 💖 💖 💖 💖 

The other day I was practicing anatomy as well as AH versions of Wangjue. So while this isn't directly a scene from the fic know that it was with them in mind hehe.

I plan on drawing these versions in AH fanart going forward! Or at least for the next ones I have in mind. Anyway, you've been warned LOL

Now I just want to take a moment to thank, Riikaa-chan, from the bottom of my heart for bringing these two to life in your fanfic AH （´・｀ ）♡. We are so fortunate to have such a lengthy and well written work for this rarepair that you've been sharing for free! Like some rarepairs have little to none, yet we are being well fed thanks to you!

(੭ु ›ω‹ )੭ु⁾⁾♡

You're seriously an amazing and dedicated person Riikaa-chan! I truly hope you get the love and appreciation you deserve this year! Like seriously y'all, we could have went without because Riikaa-chan added a significant amount of progress! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

[strawberrystepmom]

years ago kim cattrall did an interview and said that she doesn’t want to be in a situation for even an hour where she doesn’t enjoy herself and i was journaling this morning and thinking of it bc she is so correct for this

[magnetic-regent-magneto]

🎉

[twilight-good-yall-dumb]

This is my formal plea to literally everyone that you STOP going out and buying tickets to Disney remakes and sequels. As someone who holds that studio very close to my heart for the magic they used to create, it genuinely blows my mind how they're still finding immense financial success with shitty reincarnations of their preexisting IP. Do people not understand? Hate alone will do nothing! The top people at Disney are suffocating their artists with corporate greed! The executives and the shareholders do not give a SHIT if people on letterboxd hate their movie. If it's making money in the box office, they will continue making garbage because it WORKS! Please get a fucking grip and support other animation studios or literally any new IP that Disney actually decides to take a chance on, because money speaks, and it's the only language these current money hungry cowards at Disney seem to understand! I know for a damn FACT Walt has been turning in his grave for the past ten to fifteen years and it makes the prior Disney obsessed child in me SICK!!!

[the-pale-goddess]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TIFFANY!

-`♡´- VIRGO SEASON -`♡´-

"Do you understand the violence it took to become this gentle?"

[lazaruspiss]

my sibling is starting to write fic and it's so. like they've been drawing for forever and never seem insecure about art. but writing is still new to them! so the fic isn't working how they want it to. i got to point at their pile of like, 20 something filled full size sketchbooks and go, look, you've made all this art, practiced all this time to be good. and how many things have you written? 3? you keep going! you keep doing it and it will be countless one day!

[ravensroleplays]

Holy cow. We've really had ten years of Five Nights at Freddy's. To be honest, I've actually been toying around with what I wanted to do for FNAF's 10-year anniversary project for a while now. I had a couple ideas, but they were pretty much just based off stuff other people did. All I knew was that I wanted to use my versions of the ghost kids from my FNAF AU, because while I may not do as much for it as I used to, I did have a lot of fun writing, drawing, and RPing for it way back when, and I still love these babies :P

Eventually, I decided to do a redraw of the customization screen from the first game with the ghost kiddos in place of their respective animatronics.

Not a perfect redraw by any means--the squares each character was in ended up getting wonky and I couldn't think of how to fix them, and I kind of just gave up on the background colors, but you know what? I'm still happy with how this turned out :P

Original pic under cut.

If you 'like' my art, I respectfully ask that you reblog it as well.

[cupiidzbow]

bites my thumb I know I already talked abt nicknames they’d call me but I thought about it again and got sick to my stomach (good way ) 💔💔

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

HAPPY BDAY @bluepallilworld 🎂

Do I really need to cite all the reasons why I think you're an absolute sunshine and how much I admire and appreciate your presence and support? Because I'd drill it into your skull if I could with how much your happiness matters to me you sweet ol bean<333 have the best birthday ever and don't you dare forget how amazing you are >:'D ♥️

[bmpmp3]

thank god for indie devs making like tiny little maximum 10 megabyte freeware games on itchio keeping the art of filesize optimization alive. ASSET REUSE FOREVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[justalittlelogophile]

🌄🌤️ Sunrise🌤️🌄

Life, these days, seems to be all about rushing

Like a hummingbird’s wing, never at rest

Today I was rushing, and I almost missed the sky

It’s that time of year

Where thy sky isn’t usually awake by the time I am

I’ve missed the colors

Though I know they’re there all the time

So I decided, that its worth being late

To appreciate the painting that is the sky

~Po

[kanene-yaaay]

Hi hi hi it's juno again I'm once again going insane I need to share the little thought I just had!

So like... Wangxian tickling each other to help each other let go, but going for opposite end results because letting go means something different for their partner than for them,,,,, Because of their opposing social temperaments!

Basically:

Lan Zhan tickling Wei Ying until he's too far gone to get any words out. No more nervous rambling or insincere protests, just unselfconcious laughter and no need to comment on anything or to carry the conversation because Lan Zhan's got him.

And on the other hand:

Wei Ying tickling Lan Zhan until he forgets all his propriety and self-restraint and the clan rules calling for concise and clear speech. Wei Ying tickling Lan Zhan until he can't help but start begging and babbling because he's too far gone to even really notice and much less to care. And there's no one else he'd be able to share that completely unrestrained side with but Wei Ying, because Wei Ying also has him.

Tldr: LZ tickling WY until he can't talk, WY tickling LZ until he can't help but talk (i love them so much)

JUNO DEAR HOW CAN YOU JUST DROP HERE WITH THE MOST MAGNIFICENT, THE MOST INCREDIBLE HC EVER AND AHAVYWVWJWVWUAVA GOSH!!!!! ARE YOU AWARE!!!! I AM ALMOST RUNNING ACROSS THE WALLS W THIS SCENARIO I AM AAAAA ♡♡♡

The way that both of them want to LET GO, to totally relax and become undone under each other's hands until there is nothing else in their mind but laughter and love ♡♡♡♡

Lan Zhan! Who usually is careful and mindful with his words, selecting them with attention and sparsely using them only to stumble and lose each and every restrain, laughing loudly and clear, words tumbling from his smiling lips almost as much as his own giggling, saying anything, babbling and rambling and having no idea what even is being said with how much he is laughing is just !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So so soooooooo goooood so great I want to AAAAAAA

And don't even get me started!!!!!!!! About Wei Ying!!!!!!!!!!!! GOSH! The one who once has been so worried, fighting for every single ounce of control now giving it up deliberately because there is no one else he trusts more than his Lan Zhan. So he let's himself fall and be caught and laugh and laugh and let his mind, his words and teasing and jokes and fears and doubts be shut down at once by his caring, his stubborn and loving husband who is very set in making warmth and laughter blossom freely from his soul to his lips

And there is nowhere else any of them could ever want to be

[quatregats]

I wanna know about the curious letter! (Also more about get sick idiots. Always more astolat retrovirus)

The Curious Letter is my Aubreyad/Hornblower crossover in which Stephen Maturin does top surgery on Hornblower! I've posted snippets of it here before, but I will post another snippet (it's taking ages because I'm being a perfectionist about it but I think it's also one of the fics I'm most pleased with):

“Very good—you must do as you see fit,” Hornblower replied, looking slightly pale. “Only as long as you think it can be done.” “It can be done,” Stephen agreed, standing up. “It is still largely an experimental procedure—I make no guarantees of anything. But the principle of the thing has overall been successful, which is enough of an assurance for most.” “How many times have you done it?” Hornblower asked, pulling on his threadbare jacket and crossing his arms over his chest in a hunched posture Stephen knew well. “Oh, perhaps nine or ten—I have not kept close records, and besides, a great number of them were some years ago. Joseph’s was the most recent.” “And all of them have succeeded?” “Some more than others. But I have not mangled anyone beyond recognition, nor lost a patient to the gangrene, which is the most that can be said. I have done no long-term studies of the effects, but the Dear knows that I have kept well enough. And so, if you say, has Joseph.” “Indeed.” “So will you go through with it, then?” Hornblower made a hmmphing sound. “Yes, it’ll do.” “Good. Then I will come to your lodgings tomorrow morning. Make sure you wrap up all your business today—you will not be leaving your room for the next week. Good day to you, Mr. Hornblower.” And with that, for all that Hornblower seemed that he had an objection to raise, he allowed himself to be escorted out the door without further comment.

And here is the opening to Get Sick Idiots <3 (aka This Is How Horatio And Maria Can Still Win):

“I’m to go to London right away,” Horatio said, setting the letter down on the dining table along with the letter opener which he had forgotten to put down in his haste to read it; the moment he had seen the Admiralty’s seal he had entirely forgotten about breakfast, and the steaming cup of tea and plate of fresh eggs and sausage were sitting sadly abandoned in front of him. “They have found me a ship.” “Surely they will give you a week or two of leniency, my love?” Maria said from across the table, her hands busy darning one of his old stockings. “They are saying London will be in quarantine in a day or two—Lizzie told me just as much yesterday while we were waiting in line at the butcher’s.” Horatio folded the letter carefully on the table, then shook his head. “No. The Navy does not wait on our pleasures, and if I do not go they will certainly give the ship to another captain. You know how hard it is to get a ship; I cannot pass up the opportunity.” “Can you not write them?” “I must go present myself to the Lord of the Admiralty himself—something about the nature of the appointment.” He unfolded the letter again, seemingly unaware, and refolded it without looking at it. “So I must go to London, and it cannot wait.”

[spookykestrel]

Best day ever I wanted pickles and immediately remembered there's pickles in the fridge

[yuukimiyas]

hiii im home from passin out candy w some fam!! :3 & now im cozied up w a my melody sheet mask on before i get all tucked into bed (*ᴗˬᴗ) i hope everyone had a v safe & sweet halloweenie!! <33