#(i am mashing favorite things together again)

[alpacacare-archive]

why you booing me im right

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 15

The beautiful mess that would’ve been The Beatles plus Yoko Ono plus Billy Preston plus Bob Dylan plus whoever else. Although I guess that is sort of what George went on to do. He really did just want a group of friends that cared more about each other than the product, and that’s what he created for himself. 

John: And the dream I had was you. The camera: zooms in on Paul’s wounded puppy eyes. John: *staring at Paul* d’you get my meaning? Imagine doing that to literally any other human being. I would not be that intimate with my best friend, my husband, my sister . . . anyone. Let alone my ex, (not literally, you all get what I mean) in front of my current SO and multiple cameras. This kind of thing really makes me wonder what kind of insane shit he must’ve said/done when they were alone, especially in happier times. 

George painted his own psychedelic guitar, and it looks gorg. Who painted Paul’s. Anyone know?

How can I Not assume “Stand By Me” is *meaningful* if, firstly, this is the second time you’ve sung it at each other during this project, and secondly, if you look at each other like This while singing it? Then again, when are they not uncomfortably intense when singing together?

“Oh, help me, Daddy. I don’t even know how this thing works.”  He says about the instrument he plays in the most successful band of all time. Paul can play whatever he needs to to get what he wants out of someone, and that includes dumb.

John’s little “Ookaay.” At Paul’s weird carrying-on about his insecurities with his bass playing. It just screams, “You’re delusional and I’m not getting into this right now.” Which is 1000% valid. Imagine being Paul McCartney and second-guessing your bass skills. Reminds me of that quote where John’s like, “He’s an egomaniac about everything else, but he’s coy about his bass playing. Which is stupid because he’s one of the most innovative bass players . . .”

John and Paul nail the harmony on “HoooooohOoOoOme.” And the LOOKs, you guys.

But also the nonverbal vocal communication! It’s one of my favorite parts about them, really. One of the things that reminds me of how special their relationship is. John makes a face. Paul goes, “brroop”. John replies with a beaming, “Yeah!” To which Paul adds another “brrrrip” as they simultaneously continue the song. It’s just unreal. Nobody does that. They are magical and they were right to think they had special telecommunicative powers. 

The lunch orders today are everything you need to know about the Beatles. John: Sparrow on toast. Paul: Boiled testicle. George: Uh, Mal? So, we’ll have whatever the vegetables are, and if they’ve got any cheese sauce for the cauliflower. Ringo: Mashed potato. That’s it. That’s them.

“Then there’s another one,” says Paul, doing a shit job of pretending he hasn’t rehearsed this to sound like some accidental discovery. “Don’t let me down. Oh, darling,” sung suddenly, and forcefully, directly at John, “I’ll never let you down.”

John, beaming like the star quarterback just told him he looked pretty, tucks his hair behind his ears and says, barely hovering in the safety of a joking tone, “Yeah, it’s like you and me are lovers.”

John has of course taken Paul’s game of gay chicken an arm’s reach farther than Paul’s comfortable with, at least in front of cameras, so he can only nod, and brush his own hair back. Stiff, expressionless. "Yeah."

(Of course, Peter Jackson cuts out what eventually evolves into John and Paul singing “we’re a couple of queers” and talking about wearing skirts for the performance) 

Am I the only one getting the vibe that John genuinely dislikes Teddy Boy? Not because he thinks it sucks or anything but because he doesn’t like the obvious similarities to his relationship with Julia? Personally, I love it. It was my anxiety song a few years back.

The original lyric to “fancy me chances” was Not “frock” I absolutely guarantee. 

Love Paul checking on Billy. Love that they're all, even with everything they've got going, making sure he's set up and taken care of.

Sorry not sorry that I’m so thirsty over literally every woman in this show, but. Hello, Pattie! She just walks in, ignores everyone else, kisses him Like That, whispers something, and gets out to go live her own life. Queen. Gorgeous. Obsessed.

George Martin praising his children for "working so well together." I love that he refused to produce them after the white album, not because they were being disrespectful to him or anything, but because they weren't getting along. And that, although he's not producing, technically, he can't stop himself coming in to make sure they're okay. He's such a good dad, literally.

John over here being emo af by himself, playing “I Feel Fine,” because he definitely does Not feel fine and he’s just as nostalgic as Paul, which is way too fucking nostalgic. Poor baby. 

[charliehoennam]

home again.

A/N: request made here by @juniebugg and a nonny made here so i decided to mash these two together

Pairing: John Kinley x F!reader

Warnings: Language and smut. No minors, please!

Word count: 2,675

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

The dusty gravel of your driveway crunched under the tires of Declan’s truck. You didn’t need to look out the window to know who it was, but you wanted to see him. Make sure he’s alright.

You’d refused to pick John up at the military base. You didn’t want to be anywhere near it. It’d been months since he’d been away and you hated every single second he was gone.

You missed him more than anything in the world. Deep inside, you were thrilled he was finally home and, most importantly, safe. Part of you wanted to race out the door and throw yourself in his arms. The other part, however, wanted to slap him across the face.

Months of his absence – provided only via letters and shitty connections through phone calls or video chats that could never replace his presence – drove you insane.

The only thing that was worse was zero contact. Not knowing if he was dead or alive; that every car that drove by the house would deliver that dreaded folded flag. Sometimes, you questioned why he would want to be in the army in the first place, fighting a war that he has no fault in. How could he just leave you?

You’d thought it would get easier to live with after you got married. Turned out, it wasn’t.

John called out for you and spotted you by the window where he’d caught you staring out of just before you moved away to hide. He read your resistance right off the bat.

“Hey, honey” he smiled as he set his army green bag on the floor in the hallway. “Don’t I get a kiss huh?”He tried to joke to loosen you up.

There was definitely tension in the air that he’d detected even before walking in, but he wanted to avoid conflict on his first day home. He’d missed you just as much as you’d missed him; there was no doubt the distance was hard on both sides. Yet you felt he was to blame since it was his choice to reenlist. You were there. You’d always be there.

You pulled away as he tried to pull you into his arms and marched back into the kitchen where you’d been making his favorite: Fettucine alfredo with crispy bits of Italian sausage. 

“Something smells real good.” His attempts were getting nowhere. “Come on, baby. Is this how it’s gonna be every time I come home?”

“You could just stay home.” You shrugged as you continued stirring the pot of white sauce before dipping a spoon to taste-test the flavor.

“We’re really gonna do this? Again?” He scoffed running a hand over his tired face.

“Do you really expect me to be all bright smiles when you were literally gone for 9 months in the middle of God knows where? After 11 days of sheer silence, I just found 6 days ago that you weren’t dead, John.”

“I thought that would be something to be happy about.” His brows furrowed.

“I am happy you’re alive, John. But I did also spend 11 days thinking you might have been dead!”

“That wasn’t my fault! We got ambushed by an IED in the middle of nowhere. We lost the RV and had to trek through the goddamn desert. You think I wanted that happen?!”

“Then you shouldn’t have relisted! I just don’t get it! Why would you want to go back to that?!”

“You don’t have to get anything! You’re acting like this is all new to you! You knew I was in the Army before, that it wouldn’t change when we got married!”

“Maybe I’d hope it would! So crucify me for thinking that maybe my husband would want to actually be home with me after getting married!” 

Your argument only escalated after that. John was angry and you were furious. A blur of loud voices, searing tears and fists pounding on walls and countertops. At some point, he had decided to blow off some steam and slammed the front door shut as he left to have a drink at the bar. He didn’t want to get drunk or talk to anybody. He just wanted to get out of there before you’d both said things that couldn’t be taken back.

Sat on a tall stool with a beer bottle cradled in his hands, he stared into nothingness wanting to forget everything. However, his mind found itself returning to you. To your scent that lingered on his clothes after his hug. To your warmth against his chest and arms. Fuck, he missed you badly and he hated that he couldn’t fucking forget it.

After pushing himself off the stool, he drove home in silence and cautiously stepped over the threshold. His eyes scanned the house as he made his way in, searching for any indication that could explain your current state. But he found only silence. A daunting calmness in the shadows of the home as the streets casted their lights in attempt to chase the gloom. But when his eyes landed on a pillow stacked upon of a folded-up blanket, he shook his head and ignored your punishment.

That was his limit. The final drop to overflow the flood he’d spent hours trying to contain.

You tossed and turned in bed, wondering if you had gone too far. You reflected on his words. He wasn’t wrong. You knew the Army was important to him going into the relationship. You knew that when you said yes when he asked you to marry him. You knew that when you said “I do” at the altar.

He felt his blood boil again as he marched up the stairs with his pillow under his arm. The door flew up open and he strode into the room, avoiding your bewildered gaze as you propped yourself up on your elbow.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You questioned angrily. “You’re sleeping on the couch.”

“The hell I am. I spent nine months away. I’m sleeping in my own bed tonight.”

You could hear the tinge of impatience in his voice. He sat at the edge of his side on the bed to untie his boots and set them aside with a thud muffled by the carpet.

“You’re not sleeping here, John.”

“You can sleep on the couch if you want, but I’m sleeping right here.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?”

“Oh, I am huh? How about you? You’re the one that’s acting like a fucking child.”

You sat up in disbelief, ready for round two of your argument.

“Just don’t. I’m tired and I wanna sleep.” He stated as he laid back against his pillow, back turned to you.

“You think it’s fucking easy? You think it’s easy having you miles away, with no notice if you’re even alive? I thought you were dead, John!”

He was ready to snap back with his defense, but the tears building in your eyes warned him not to. Instead, his jaw clenched as he held his gaze on you.

“I spent night crying my fucking eyes out thinking you weren’t coming home this time! Just to get up the next day and pretend like everything was alright! Do you know how emotionally exhausting this has been for me?!”

He hadn’t thought about that. Guilt settled in his chest and started to build in his throat as he listened to your rant, which soon brought you to sob.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m home…” he whispered pulling you into his strong arms, wrapping them around you.

Any resistance you had melted away against his warmth. You gave in and buried your face into his neck.

“I’m home. I’m with you and everything’s alright. Everything’s alright now.” he repeated as he soothed you with gentle kisses on the crown of your head. His palm rubbed circles against your back.

Your body was yearning for him. He could tell from the way your nails clung onto his shirt. His fingers lifted your chin to catch your gaze.

“Look at me. I’m right here. I’m with you and I’m not going anywhere, alright?” he whispered with a thumb wiping your tears away.

“I got you, hm?”

Sealing his promise with a kiss, your body softened and accepted his kiss. Then his tongue. You could feel it building in your core. That familiar lust that had haunted you during his absence. That craving that couldn’t be quenched.

Like magnets, your bodies had lost against the invisible pull. His hands slipped down to your thighs, guiding them as you straddled his lap.  The heated kiss was unbroken until your hands tugged at his olive-green shirt to release it from the tuck of his camouflaged pants. You helped him pull it off over his head as he helped you remove the Pink Floyd t-shirt that once belonged to him before becoming your favorite nightgown.

 As your lips collided once again – more feverish than before –, your hands roamed down to unbuckle his belt. The metal clinked as it hit the floor. John wasted no time to lay you down against the mattress. You needed him and there he finally was to take care of you. God, how he’d missed your taste.

He whispered continuous praises as his bushy beard brushed against your delicate skin, peppering kisses down to your breasts. His mouth closed around your hardening nipples, suckling them with eyes closed to relish their fullness and warmth.

“My beautiful wife. Missed you so fucking much.”

His hand kneaded each of them as he squeezed your flesh to his face. He could’ve stayed there forever, but he was eager to please you.

He forced himself up as he stood back on his knees, sat against his heels. His gaze on you was loving as if admiring a sculpture he’d carved from his own dreams. “I love you” fell from his lips over and over again, like a prayer in between the tender kisses he pressed against your legs, lifting them to rest against his broad shoulders. He hooked his fingers into your panties and slid them up your legs and tosses them to the floor. His eyes locked on yours was more than enough to cause your core to puddle. You could feel the slick building with every kiss.

He wasted no time settling between your thighs, trailing his kisses over your outer labia. This was about making you feel good. Making it sink into your brain that he was finally fucking home.

With your legs bent up over his shoulders, he moaned as he buried his mouth against your plush slick flush. One hand slid up to your breast as the other locked its fingers with your own. You moaned and wiggled against him.

He devoured you and smiled to himself as he watched the way your body arched in pleasure. The salty sweet taste of you liquefied his insides. He could feel him twitching as his cock hardened on the bed. After months of bottling in all his desires and having to satisfy himself with his hand and a photo of you in lingerie, his thirst for you was erupting beyond control. He had to remind himself that this was going to be about you.

His hips began rocking against the bed at the sounds your body was making. He was so eager to fuck you, but he had to contain himself to make it last. Yet his hunger for you had his hips grinding against the mattress, aching for any type of friction he could get as he battled with his self-control. His cock spasmed in his pants with every gentle tug on his hair or scrape of your nails on his scalp.  

With his tongue building up your orgasm, it lapped over your folds and concentrated on the overly sensitive nub. He swiped and swiveled over it; the pressure in your depths grew into hot white pleasure. You weren’t going to last much longer.

The hand on your breast slid down your scorching skin to hold your hips firmly in place as you wriggled, wrestling against the implosion and failing terrible to resist until you finally caved in. Your body trembled as your legs shut on either side of his head. He smiled as he proudly admired your reaction, enjoying how quickly your chest rose and fell. The leaking precum from his dick was beginning to sink through his boxers and pants; he was almost certain he’d left a wet spot on the bedsheet.

He lifted himself off and was unable to wait any longer. He needed to feel you on his cock. Kicking his pants off provided you a moment to regain yourself and admired the way his muscles contracted under his skin. This big burly man was yours, all yours.

As he crawled back between your legs and aligned himself to penetrate, you both watched his head slowly push in through your soaking pussy in burning anticipation lathered with only the spit on his fingertips.

His eyes closed tightly shut as he bottomed out and held himself there for a moment, controlling his own increasing implosion.

You could tell he was struggling a bit between satisfying you both and giving into his own carnal needs. You cradled the sides of his face and gently guided him down to kiss him in an attempt to distract him from the wonderful hug of your cunt on his cock.

With an arm propped on the side of your head, he kissed you hungrily as his hand gripped the soft flesh of your thigh and pushed your hips against his. His groin brushing on your swollen nub sent fireworks bursting through your nerves, forcing a shy moan from your throat. He smiled and pulled his head back to look down at you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

As his lips latched onto your neck, his hips pulled back and slowly thrusted forward to begin his pace. Slow and gentle, but so deliciously full and stretched. You held your breath with every push and pull of his cock, clenching around it to hold him inside. You’d never let him go if you could. His cock in you made you feel so completed like this is where you both were meant to be.

His pace started to quicken. A sheen coat of sweat glazed your bodies in the cool blue light of the moon that rained in from the tall windows of your bedroom. The searing heat had begun to bubble from the inside out, oozing from your desperate desire to feel each other deeper.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed out the open door and into the hallway. His balls slammed against your perineum as your wetness began coating the bedsheet underneath, staining it with remnants of love and lust.

With labored breaths, he hugged you tightly against him with his other arm. It was building up in you for the second time and you could tell it was building in him as well. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your toes curled against his hips. The tight embrace of your pussy as you came again had him frantically hammering into you as praises flooded out from his lips.

“Feel so fucking good for me. I-I fucking love you, baby. L-love you so much.”

Releasing you to lock your fingers together, he shuddered with a deep moan and slowed to a stop. You milked every drop. The hot load filled you with an incomparable warmth in your depths. Your walls were coated in his pearly white seed.

He panted as he held himself in your cunt for a moment longer until he finally pulled out and collapsed beside you. You turned on your side to face him. His hands reached out for you and pulled you into his arms. Perfectly nestled against his hairy chest, you smiled to yourself. His heart beating against your ear was the final reminder that he was home. He was here and he was all yours.

[themushroomgoesyeet]

It's time ladies and gentlemen

Arcana characters as Disney's Hercules

I promise not all of these are gonna be Disney themed lol I'm just a Muriel simp (if you couldn't tell) and when I originally came up with the Disney princess idea Muriel as Hercules started rotting a hole through my brain so here we are! Also, we're gonna get some side character/familiar action here as well, yay!

Asra, Nadia, Julian, & Portia - the muses

Are there other characters that these four could fit? Probably

Am I going to fit them there? No

Someone needs to be the muses, and I choose these 4

From left to right (since none of the muses are named) Portia, Julian, Nadia, & the last two get subsumed into Asra

Idk I think they'd have fun jamming out & watching Muriel do his thing

Lucio - Hades

Oh god I can hear the Lucio simps screeching at me in the comments already

But consider: am I wrong tho

Let's face it bro is the villain in every route but his own and the cynical, "better than thou" personality that they both share just fits so well

Plus this version of Hades is a Satan analog who makes binding deals with others for his own benefit, and doesn't that sound like a certain devil we all know?

Not to mention both of them are trying to escape the realms they've been assigned & make themselves god king of everything

Two words: ✨anger issues✨

Morga - Phil

And now we get to the fun characters outside the M6

I will admit, Phil is a lot nicer than Morga, but jaded older mentor figure trying to make up for failed prodigies fits

Plus, Morga was Muriel's mentor in his route

I feel like both also fit into the role of proud parent figure by the end of their respective stories

And both are disapproving of their pupil's romances lol

Inanna - Pegasus

Admittedly Inanna is a bit more no-nonsense than Pegasus is, but she can still be goofy and fun when she wants to

Incredibly supportive of their human companions, important assets in battle, their appearance started the main character on a path for a better and more fulfilling life

Not much else to say here it just works

Vlastomil and Volta - Pain & Panic

Honestly idk if I can fit Vulgora and Valdemar into the Hercules narrative, but at least I could get these two in here

Vlastomil is Pain and Volta is Panic; I realize both could probably fit into Panic's role as they are the more timid and mild mannered courtiers, but I've chosen things this way because Volta is a little bit more flighty and afraid to commit crimes like Panic, where as Vlastomil is a bit more bold (when he's allowed to be) and better fits Pain

There's also the whole shape shifting deal they can all do

Khamgalai - Zeus

This one.....is a bit weird ngl, I'm still not quite sure about it

Honestly this is the ONLY time I will conflate someone so near & dear to my heart with Zeus

Mostly this all fits into the "detached/secret family member" archetype

And....I mean Zeus in this narrative at least is actually very kind & caring, as well as a proud dad which is similar enough to Khamgalai to work ok

Plus they both act as a guide for the main character when they're trying to find/drifting away from the plot a little bit

Merf (my MC) - Meg

Ok

I know what you're thinking

And I'm going to state once again that I am a huge Muriel simp

My MC is also a self insert, and for as long as I can remember I've always identified the most with Meg, more than any of the other Disney women

Anyone who has read my fic, seen the stuff I've posted about my character either on this blog or others, or even just talked to me on the arcana discord started by @iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia can probably see that our personalities are very similar

Meg is very special to me as a character and I'm literally writing a post about mashing together my beloved and one of my favorite Disney movies, I'm not apologizing for conflating her with myself

[4izawas]

mona + tribbing with her in a mating press 🫡

reese i am i when she when i im i just

“oh — o-oh~!”

soft whimpers and whines fill the bedroom of the apartment you shared with mona, and your lips quirk up in a shaky smile as you look down at how she writhes beneath you: her hair, loose from its normally well put together pigtails, splays out on the pillow beneath her head in a way similar to that of a halo, framing her burning pink cheeks and squeezed-shut eyes as the feelings of your hot, wet pussy squishing against hers brings her closer and closer to the edge.

you have her legs up, her knees bound to either shoulder with thick leather bands, leaving her bare to the world in a way only you would ever get to have her ( she’d long since made sure of it ) and helpless to whatever pleasure you would choose to inflict upon her — and tonight that meant mashing your cunt against hers, your juices mixing and swollen clits grinding against the other’s flesh.

“oh — oh — y-y/n, beloved, p-please-!” she whines, tears beginning to sparkle in the corners of her eyes as he heart races in her chest and the ever-present knot in her lower tummy begins to tighten up. “i — oh! y/n, i — i’m gonna cum!”

“good, that’s exactly what i want from you, sweetling,” you murmur, removing a hand from where you’d gripped her calf to brush her hair from her face. the tears fall, and she lets out a choked sob.

“i c-can’t — ‘ve came s-so much, i c-can’t again-!”

“you can’t?” you ask mockingly, grinding your cunt against her sloppy one hard enough to pull a shriek from her lips and a low growl from yours, “or you won’t?”

“c-can’t — can’t!” she gasps, her eyes wide and chest heaving. her cheeks sparkle with tears and as you keep up the hard grind that had made her call out for you, she wails, “y-y/n — cummin’! ‘m cummin!’” and screams loud enough to shake the paintings on the walls before her entire body begins to seize as her orgasm overtakes her. shaky, choked whimpers and moans fallfrom her lips and her eyes roll back in her head, which falls back onto her pillow as you deepen the grind of your hips, picking up the pace as you do so as you chase your own high — which comes much quicker than expected. before long you’re grunting and whining lowly, your brow furrowed and chest heaving until your own orgasm washes over you. your eyes cross slightly, and another shrill wail comes from the woman beneath you as a long splash of fluid soaks both of your thighs as your lover squirts against both of your cunts and wets the sheets.

you tremble, head hanging down and breathing shaky as you come down. glancing up slightky, you see drool dripping down mona’s chin. her eyes, usually so beautiful and bright, are rolled back slightly and a bit dim; she’s passed out, the back to back orgasms too much for her body and mind to handle. you smile softly, looking down at her with fond, warm eyes and a full feeling of affection in your chest as you gaze down at her.

god, she was beautiful.

you carefully pull away, your sticky cunts making a slick, wet noise as you both separate, and it sends a twinge of heat through your belly that you dutifully choose to ignore as you stride to the bathroom on faintly shaky legs and wet two washcloths with cold and warm water respectfully, then returning to the bedroom to lay the cold cloth on her forehead and the warm one against her cunt, gently cleaning her up and unbinding her as you go before carefully lifting her up in your arms and laying her on the couch nearby. you had to strip the sheets, and you knew she would appreciate waking up between her favorite black ones when the sun rose.

once that was done, you ease her beneath the blankets and climb in next to her, pulling her close and smiling again when she mumbkes softly in her sleep and curls into you, burying her face between your chest and neck.

“mine,” she murmurs in her sleep, sniffing a little, and you gently bury one hand in her long hair.

“yeah, sweet thing. i’m yours.”

[foreverrandomwritings]

Hangman Dating Plus Sized S/O Part 14/14- Headcanon

Summary: This is a part of my Hangman dating plus sized reader series. This can be read as a stand alone but some parts will make more sense reading the other parts of this series. I added links through out the story to take you to the other parts that connect. This is also based on this request. Thank you very much @sylviebell​🖤

Pairing: Jake Seresin x afab!Reader

Warnings: 18+ but nothing graphic and fluff. I think that's it. 

Word count: 1066(Not that long sorry)

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

~The both of you had finally moved in together. Choosing your apartment as Jake’s lease was up and he had less stuff to move. 

~It was a couple of months later that Jake asked you to marry him.

~The both of you got dressed up and went to your go to pizza place that you had your first date at. 

~He asked Jimmy if they could hide your ring in a cannoli he knew you would order. 

~You instantly had tears in your eyes when you found it. 

~Jake also had tears in his eyes. 

~Javy had been in a different booth in a disguise and had gotten pictures of the whole thing. 

~The wedding planning went smoothly. 

~Your wedding was in California.

~You had found an old rustic barn and the both of you fell in love instantly. 

~The ceremony would be outside.

~Then the reception was a combination of inside and outside.  

~Unlike some grooms, Jake was completely immersed in the wedding planning. 

~The night before the two of you had stayed apart per his nanna’s request.

~You guys did a first look.

~You and Javy however conspired together and pulled the groomsmen in a gown prank on Jake.

~He lost it at that. Was basically on his knees crying in laughter.

~When he actually saw you for the first time though you’d have sworn he was up in his plane.

~The air was torn from his lungs and he got weak in the knees.

~His brain was fuzz and he got dizzy.

~You putting your hand on his face is what tore him back down to earth.

~He fell in love with you all over again in that moment.

~Maybe you guys also had a deep and passionate kiss. (Please don’t tell nanna)

~He cried when you walked down the aisle. 

~Had the biggest grin on his face when you finally stood in front of him.

~His brother, Javy and Bob were his groomsmen.

~Phoenix and his 2 sisters were your bridesmaids.

~Jake had decided to wear his dress whites for the ceremony and then a suit for the reception. 

~You had found an absolutely gorgeous gown that you had fallen in love with the second you had put it on. 

~Your family was invited but not involved in any way other than attending. 

~Jake’s grandfather gave you away and Jake was threatened by said (his own) grandfather not to hurt you. 

~You both wrote your own vows. 

~Jake’s went a little something like this “The fact that I am standing in front of you today about to call you my wife makes me the happiest man in the universe. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life telling you all the ways I love you. I will spend everyday making sure you know you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I will love you forever darlin’.”

~That had tears rolling down both of your faces. 

~He was also holding your hand while saying his vows, occasionally squeezing or rubbing his thumb across your hand. 

~You guys decided on pasta, steak, mashed potatoes and salad for your food options. 

~With a cannoli bar as dessert of course.

~You had gotten a simple wedding cake for the guests that didn’t prefer cannolis.(also for Jake)

~The color scheme was a mix of yours and Jake's favorite colors. 

~You had a beautiful bouquet that had some of the same flowers as the ones Jake got you on your first date. 

~Lights were hung from the ceiling and wrapped around beams.

~You also had a wall of Polaroids that Jake was reluctant to use because he didn’t want them damaged or stolen.

~Then you had a simpler dress to change into after yours and Jake's first dance. He was also changing into his suit after the first dance. 

~You guys had gone back and forth on whether you wanted a live band or a DJ before finally settling on a live band. 

~It was easy to find them because it was one that Penny would use at the Hard Deck on special occasion nights. 

~You guys decided on an open bar and were thankful that Penny also knew some trusted bartenders and where to get alcohol.

~Your signature cocktail was “Sex on the ranch”(wink wink)(see part 12 to see why that’s so funny to me lol.)

~Javy did a speech that mostly complimented you and threatened Jake. 

~Natasha did a speech that basically only threatened Jake.

~Though everyone knows that he would never hurt you. 

~You danced with Javy, Natasha and Bob.

~You did a slow song with Natasha and everyone for a second wondered if this was your guys’ wedding rather than yours and Jakes. 

~Jake had also danced with his mom and nanna. 

~You ended up surprising Jake with a line dance.

~You had on your boots he had bought for you while you were in Texas, the jeans that he loved on you and a white t-shirt that said Mrs.Seresin on it in longhorn orange on the back.

~Placed atop your head was his favorite cowboy hat that you had borrowed the night you guys went to the Line Dance in Texas. 

~You both 100% went and had a quickie in your dressing room after that. 

~Then he surprised you with a dance in his hat that you had danced in, jeans, your favorite flannel of his and cowboy boots as well. 

~You then went and had a quickie in his dressing room.

~Javy and Nat were in charge of making excuses so nanna wouldn’t hunt them down.

~The photographer was given his polaroid camera to get as many polaroids of the two of you as she could. 

~He did borrow it for the quickies though.

~He could barely keep his hands off you all night.

~Whether it was holding your hand, hugging you, having one of his hands on your thigh(He was happy you had picked a dress for the reception that made that easy to do) or he was dancing with you. 

~You did not do a garter toss or a bouquet toss either.

~You both agreed a garter toss was uncomfortable and outdated. 

~You didn’t want any damage to your bouquet. 

~The night of your wedding was pure bliss. 

~You guys had slow and passionate sex. 

~He had you seeing stars at one point.

Tags(open): @wkndwlff @sylviebell​ @angelbabyange​ @theeleggymeggy​

A/N: If anyone would like it I may or may not be presudated to write those quickies and night of bits.... but that's just if anyone wants them of course. 

[flwersgarden]

drabble of yandere elvis in a 'don't worry darling' au.

he is not famous in this and, obviously, small spoilers for 'don't worry darling' ahead! (also slight smut in the middle, inspired by *that* dinner scene in the movie)

“ so? how's elvis going? ”

you laugh, shaking your head at bibi's teasing, looking at the pool as you sit next to her and janet.

“ i won't answer that. ”

“ aw, come on! ” bibi throws her towel at you, which you evade with a laugh.

“ he is going fine! ” you answer, rolling your eyes in a playful manner, laying comfortably.

“ aw, god, i was hoping you were going to complain about him- tell me, how is it that your marriage is so perfect? no fights, no children-. ”

janet laughs, caressing her pregnant belly. you look at her with a soft smile, winking at her before returning your gaze at bibi.

“ i mean, am i the only lady in this world who needs a no-children day? come on! ” she throws her hands at the air, putting a cigarette in her mouth while the both of you laugh.

“ it's called having fun. ” you answer, bibi laughs again while nodding. she takes the cigarette out of her mouth, smoke coming out of her lips.

“ yeah, fun. ” she mutters, shrugging with her shoulders before looking at the pool. “ i wish i had that, god. ”

you laugh, looking at the pool again before staying silent.

“ for me, fun is taking care of my beautiful-. ”

“ here she goes. ” bibi mutters at janet's phrase.

“ no! i mean it. ” janet laughs.

you stare ahead, about to add something to the conversation but as you're about to, your vision gets a bit blurry. someone's humming reaches your ears.

caught in a trap.

can't get out.

mhm. mhm. mhm. mhm...

you frown, tilting your head.

glimpses of a woman dancing with a ballerina costume... some man with a blurred face looking down at you. suddenly, the man smiles.

“ now. you're never gonna leave me, are you, darling? ” his southern accent is hard, his fingers reach for your hair.

️️ ️️️️️️️️️

“ y/n, how many years since you and elvis are together? ”

you snap out of it, turning to look at bibi.

“ six. ” you smile as you answer, scrunching your nose with a loveable gaze in your eyes at the mention of your hardworking husband.

janet smiles. “ aren't you two the cutest? ”

you nod, looking at her for a second before looking at the pool again.

️️ ️️️️️️️️️

putting on the best dress you have, you wait for elvis with a drink in your hand.

the bell rings and you open the door with a smile. elvis returns it.

“ hi, baby. ” you softly say.

“ hi. ”

elvis enters, closing the door behind him and leaving his suitcase on the ground, you offer him the drink; which he takes. he wraps his arms around your waist.

“ how was work? ” is the only thing you get to ask before he starts kissing you.

“ fine. ” he answers as he breaks the kiss. you take this chance to grab his tie, taking it off.

“ good. ” elvis takes a gulp from his drink. “ i made your favorite. with some p&j's for dessert. ” he starts to walk forward, you following him blindly with your chest facing his; you're focused on taking off his tie while he's focused on you.

“ mm? ”

“ mm-hm. ” you answer with a chuckle.

“ what else? ” he asks.

“ a salad. ”

“ what else? ” he takes off his jacket.

“ mashed potatoes. ”

“ what else? ” he asks in a breath as his hands travel from your arms to your waist.

“ stuffed tomatoes. ” you answer the same.

you feel the end of the table bump into you, making you sit on it.

“ wow. ” elvis whispers before kissing you again. this time, you put your hands on his cheeks before surrounding his neck with your arms as he breaks the kiss. “ what else? ” he starts leaving small kisses in your left cheek, traveling to your neck, his hands groping your waist.

a small moan leaves you as you turn slightly around, dropping everything that was preventing you from laying on the table. elvis opens your arms as you push the salad and the bread out lf your way.

you lay on your back, whimpering at the feeling of elvis' breath close to your cunt. suddenly, his tongue enters your hole, making you moan. your hands grab the corner of the table before grabbing his hair.

“ hahh... oh-. ” your voice cracks at the end of your moaning, closing your eyes for a few seconds before looking at the roof. elvis hands caress your thighs as he moans underneath you, he is on his knees, eating you out like he is a starved man.

elvis doesn't miss a second on sucking up all of your slick, the wet noises that it creates make you feel even more warm.

it keeps going like this for a minute before you extend your arms to your side. ceramic falling to the ground as you try to grab something. the euphoria elvis' mouth gives to your cunt makes it impossible for you to breath, a broken moan appears before being followed by whining. your hips try to move far from him but he knows what you really want so his hands serve for him to pull your pussy back to his mouth, his tongue is tasting everything and he loves it. you taste like heaven.

his hot tongue runs over your sensitive cunt over and over again. you close your eyes and open your mouth, trying to remember how to breathe properly.

his hands travel to the end of the table as he, himself, needs to keep going and not get distracted by your pretty moans.

“ taste s'fucking good. ” he mutters into your pussy, making you whine before hitting your head on the table.

he was circling his tongue around your clit. going back and forth between sucking violently and giving soft kisses. it made you feel euphoric.

he was devouring you, you couldn't even focus properly as he didn't spend more than five seconds in one area. he explored every bit of you like there was no tomorrow.

as you feel yourself growing close, one hand grabs the end of the table as the other grabs his head pushing him impossibly closer. your eyes roll to the back of your head as he thrusts his tongue into you. the wet and sloppy sounds his mouth does makes you want to scream louder.

️️ ️️️️️️️️️

you dance around the dinner table, smile in your face as 'lollipop' by the chordettes play in the background, picking up small trash that you and elvis left last night. the memory of how elvis smiled at you before going down his knees and burying his head between your thighs made you feel flustered, giggling before looking down, your feet touching the soft wood, noticing a small thing shining on the ground.

you crouch, frowning as you extend your arm to reach it. it seemed like a piece of hair but as you were about to touch it,

the phone started to ring.

you look behind you, while sighing you get up and walk towards it. grabbing the phone, you answer:

“ hello? ”

ragged breath. “ y/n. ” the whimper of your name makes you stop breathing for a bit.

“ nina? ” you ask with a whisper.

“ you are getting out. right? ”

you frown, shaking your head. the soft music leaving your ears as a ringing sound invaded your head.

“ w-what? ”

“ that's why he is distracting you. ”

“ he? ”

“ your husband. ”

“ don't speak about him. ” your voice got stern, your face serious as a sudden feeling of protecting him got ahold of you.

“ y/n, please. ” nina sobs, you just hold the phone with strength.

“ you are unwell. ”

“ I AM NOT CRAZY! ”

with that, you hang up the phone. the loud ring of it makes all other noises dissappear.

you stand there, breathing heavily.

the soft voices of the chordettes appear again.

[joehillssimp]

Okay so been rewatching dhmis again as I should be in my free time.

And I think red guy represents yellow guys shy older brother before the house/car thing happened. This one is just a hunch based off of the end of episode 3 where red calls yellow "brother" And just his general vibes.

Also, red guy being the oldest child in an abusive household makes sense to me. Red guy sees what's happening with the family dynamic turning them against each other while also forcing them together I. Repeating conflicts with no escape is kind of relatable with that. Maybe I'm just pprojecting.

Makes Lesley's line about them always returning back home in the end very extra fucked up.

Roy is the abusive father clearly. And Lesley is the micromanaging mom. I don't know if she is also abusive or just enables Roy but she's definitely complacent. The doll house thing, the deciding what they learn and how they act, the whole making the family into a production funded by asshole Roy is something a mom in denial of how awful her life is would do.

Not that I've seen it in action.

Duck is definitely the dog mashed together with an older relative probably a grandfather. In the second episode the lamp mentions how sometimes people believe that people get reincarnated as their favorite animal, the grandfather could have loved the family pet a lot. I am hypothesizing the existence of a grandfather due to all the references to a military past for duck and how he's always in a rocking chair. We also always see duck as the one who is constantly being replaced which is common for pets especially for the ones of small children.

Yellow guy being a representation for Lesley's dead son is the one that makes the most sense to me based off the evidence. If you have a better theory please present evidence and talk me up.

I noticed that the agreed upon symbols that are the characters each have a stylized drawing of each of them included in the squiggles and I think that's pretty cool.

Red guy is yellow guys brother is probably adopted.

Roy is probably neglectful if not abusive and I think he was taking care of duck as a pet when he died of dehydration/"forgetting" to drink water. Grolton kinda looks like roy and grolton refused to give hovris any water in episode 4 when he needs to get to his dental appointment for his gum disease, which we also see Roy in disguise with absolutely terrible gums.

I need to go through everything grolton and hovris appearance to figure out any possible theory clues.

If it's not clear I'm dumping things here

I don't know if I put this idea on tumblr but Lesley was probably drunk when she ran over her son. Actually I think I did put it here. Anyway I think she probably started drinking because of either grief of grandpa dying, grief from her first son drowning, or just self medicating from Roy's bull shit.

Maybe red guy is an uncle.

I stopped watching the episodes and started watching bo Burnham and the theories are fading.

Fuck

Yeah I guess I'm done for now

Bye

[entomolog-t]

G/tWAC Day 4: Favorite Scenes

Mild spoiler warnings for The Stranding, Blanket, and Clumsy

(Nothing that's a huge plot reveal- just quite literally spoiling some amazing scenes)

I want to have a diverse spread of author's but theres NO WAY I can talk about favorite scenes without bringing up @belethlegwen again.

One of my favorite scenes is Mel's first time meeting Edmund, Bravest-soldier-in-the-ranks, Miller. The scene hits so well- A giant woman washing up on shore, the general sentiment of unease, if not outright fear from The Watch...

Then theres Miller.

Even without ineracting with him yet, Mel notices he's a bit different than the other men- with just this overall lack of hesitation when getting nearer to her. Brother is straight grinning like the lil big goon he is.

Belle does such a phenomenal job setting the scene. The expectations set, and swiftly subverted, the way she describes his actions and voice just beautifully showing he just is not scared. The goofy chemistry between the two just so wonderfully cuts the tension of the previous chapters, but without fully severing it. Things still feel uneasy, but Miller (as well as the wonderful Lionus) feel like a reprise.

“They’ve even got a name for soldiers like me in the company!”

“Oh?” she asked, placing the empty barrel down on the other side of him, and then moving her hand toward the freshly opened one. The other two men had gone back for the last two barrels from the cart and were rolling them towards her at speed.

“Idiots,” - Chapter 5 of The Stranding.

JAFGSFLKH- here we witness the birth of The Idiot Brigade😭 Every interaction with that man just has me cackling.

---

Next up is the the short that is the Literal embodiment of AJFHLkfhkfh by @bittykimmy13 / @kendsleyauthor

Never has a scene made me want to bark so much as the blanket scene???? If you haven't read it PLEASE don't let me spoil it for you because this is the juicest fearplay spice- I physically cannot restrain myself from keyboard mashing when talking about this.

What makes the blanket scene so incredibly good is just this fun yet high tension game of cat and mouse between Micah and Everly. Its this playfully predatory flirting that just gets the heart pumping and the mind flustered, and it just all cumulates with Everly trying to avoid Micah catching her while she dodges his hand under the cover of a blanket- with Micah just giving in and crawling under the covers to get her??

I DONT KNOW WHAT IT IS BUT THAT VISUAL??? ASFDKJASJF

----

Lastly is an incredibly recent fic/short(?) (please let it be ongoing I love them your honor) by @clumsiestgiantess (Everyday I am thankful that my brainrot is apparently wildly contageous to @clumsiestgiantess) that just??? The perfect timing of the slightly angsty fluff?? *screams into a pillow*

Fen is a borrower who has been through some nasty events in the passed 24 hours (and frankly just in general) and is just trying his best. Alice is a human who's clear concern and care for others (along with her grades) is palpable. Together the pair have one of the most tender interactions I have ever read. Just FFHKFH- Its literal catnip and I want to roll in it.

“Are you ok?  You look sick.  If this makes you uncomfortable, I can put you back down.  You didn’t have to get on.”  It’s just like in the car — her blue-eyed gaze looking me over with genuine concern.  “I- I’m alright.”  She gently shakes her head.  “You aren’t, though.  You’re shaking.”  The gentlest pressure alights on my chest as a soft finger brushes up against it.  “And your heart’s beating really fast.”  Her touch is so soft — incredibly cautious like she’s holding something precious and delicate.  Maybe I am, to her.  It’s nothing like what I had imagined a human would feel like, nothing at all.

In a brief moment of weakness, my eyes tear up and I squeeze her finger closer, pressing my forehead against it.  It is absolutely terrifying thinking about where I am.  I’ve spent all my life believing it’s a place of certain death.  Why is it so comfortable? - Part 2 of this work of literal art

Just the word choice and pacing of this whole interaction? The dialogue is just so compassionate. And then there the action. GOODNESS. Alice taking her figure to his chest? FEN THEN TAKING THAT FINGER AND PRESSING HIS FORHEAD TO IT???

The line "Why is it so comfortable?"

I promise you- this scene made me audibly gasp.

The mix of such sweet and tender dialogue with that visual?? Gosh it had my heart racing like a lovestruck teen.

I highly recommend you all check these works (and these authors) out!

[shifterglitter]

My Main DRs (ACTIVE)

I was debating posting this for a while, but, I think it will help if I write it down in multiple places.

So I should start off by saying that my current understanding fallows The LOA explanation of shifting. I have deep dived in to many theories but this is my favorite.

Of course I admit that I don't have all the answers, and if you believe something else that is totally cool. DO what works for YOU! It's your reality. I am not here to judge anyone or tell you how to shift. The only thing I plan on doing here is logging my adventures.

To that effect, I believe in quantum immortality, that the 3d is the least real physical plane, and that I AM everything in my multiverse. (Which honestly equates to a "God Complex" , so no hard feelings if you don't want to interact with me. I'd appreciate you blocking me over sending nasty anons though. TY in advance.)

-Vivi

My Main DR is actually an amalgamation of DRs.

I call my Multiverse "Kiss Me Again".

It all started with a love for both various fictional characters, and wanting the emotional commitment of monogamy. Then I thought: Well what if I can love the same soul in every DR I go to?

We could spend eternity together like this.

But I didn't want them to have the memories of being with them previously when we meet in the DR. I adore the idea of getting to fall in love over and over again.

That way I can set up any number of my favorite tropes, backgrounds, settings, and appearances in the future and still have it be the same person. In the infinity of the wider universe there is no reason this could not be possible if I assume it is plausible.

IDK if I want them to remember all of there memories after I kiss them, or after I tell them I'm a shifter, or even at all. What I do know is that in my WRs they will have the collective memories of us together.

I plan of exploring this concept for the foreseeable future. So there will be many more DRs added to this list later. For now, there are only two.

My MV Lifetime starts off by mashing my CRDR "Masked Man" and my ACOTAR DR "ACO Storms and Sanctuary".

Masked Man This DR is based off my OR. In fact, I'm already living it. That's right. You heard me. I am IN my first DR right now. This is my CRDR. The Physical Reality (3D) around me has already started to reflect my script, so I know everything is going just as planned. By LOA, I am here. I am who my consciousness was born as and will remain that person until my natural passing.

In A Court of Storms and Sanctuary I am Azriel's mate and one of Eris' spies. My name is Lakely there, and I'm a storm conjuror that can talk to a select group of animals. The first "Shift" into this DR will be far more obvious to pick up on, thankfully. I'll be there for a long while before reaching my first milestone with Azriel in our slow burn. When I do eventually get there I'll shift back here for a while.

As far my my scripted timeline of events go, here is a "short" list of highlights:

- In April I will being manifesting by LOA and Reya's Re-programing method that I have shifted completely into my Masked Man DR. - I'll go through the next few months exactly as I would before I discovered shifting. I overnight at the airport, walk my dog and cat in the morning once I'm home. Take my Zoloft, and go to bed ready to do it all again the next day. --EDIT: I quit my toxic job. May get a part time job in the mean time and start visiting the paint shop more. - I have planes to move after that and receive my lasting love into my life. - At some point during the above I'll make my first shift to meet Azriel. I don't know how long I'll spend in ACOSAS, but I'll know it's time to shift back to my CRDR. There is a significant mile stone in our slow burn I'm waiting for. -Occasionally during my aging life here in my CRDR I will shift ACOSAS. It won't be too long before - I have several WRs that I will visit as well, but for now, the above is my main focus.

I can't wait to fall in love with my eternal mate over and over again.

[prettyxvenom99]

Turkey-less Stuffed Roast with Gravy (and Ghosts)

Levi preparing his Thanksgiving dinner. Lots of angst ahead.

There is no point in buying whole turkeys — they are too big. Besides, they take a lifetime to defrost, and once they do, all Levi wants is to sink himself in the puddle they leave. 

Turkeys aren’t his favorite animal, not by a long mile. They’re too much of a symbol. People only eat them once a year, in a very particular occasion: two bustling days of preparation and one big dinner, everyone around a table hand in hand, gratitude on their lips. 

But to Levi, there is no point in buying whole turkeys — they are too big, and his table too small. Instead, he bought one of those boxes of artificiality they sell at Trader Joe’s: Breaded Turkey-less Stuffed Roast with Gravy, which the store at the corner of his street has ceaselessly advertised, and to which he has finally caved.

Upon scrutinizing the packaging, he has come to a conclusion: the best thing about it is that it freezes well. This is, obviously, a dietary requirement for singles with no families — he can’t finish everything by himself, but now he’ll have food for the whole week. Perfect. He can be thankful for that. 

He slices the brown, breaded hunk of fake meat. Careful with the stuffing, he tells himself. He lays the oval pieces on a baking sheet, sprays oil over them, pops them into the oven. Fifteen minutes, the instruction says. Yes, sir! Levi answers. 

He has heard tales of what a great fun Thanksgiving dinner prep could be. This must be what it feels like. It’s just that those people would have others to perform witty dialogues with. Meanwhile, Levi only has the writings at the back of a food package — a decent conversation partner, but he knows it won’t win him any Oscars. 

HEATING INSTRUCTIONS: GRAVY. MICROWAVE (1200 watt): Microwave cook times may vary depending on oven wattage …

“Do I even know my ‘oven wattage’? Come on, nobody knows their oven wattage,” he chides. “Anyway, I’m done spinning around as my life’s tryna burn me. Let’s just use the stove top.”

STOVE TOP: Empty gravy into a sauce pan, over medium heat and stir to simmer. 

“Yes, sir!” Levi murmurs. “Ready when you are, sir!”

As the gravy waits for a simmer, the oven works with a soft hiss and quiet creaking. Levi kneels before it and peeks in with a careful frown between his brows, muttering some earnest encouragement. 

Gotta get ‘em up to … Instructions, what was it again? An internal temperature of 165 degree Fahrenheit — yeah. You can do it, Oven! You little brat, stop complaining. You ain’t even that hot yet. 

(If this all sounds a little crazy, that’s because it is. But he’s trying to have fun, and there’s only so much conversation you can have when you’re alone.)

“You look beautiful,” he breathes out when the roast is done — golden-brown slices of perfection. He bathes them meticulously in the gravy, lays them next to the mashed potatoes and cranberries he’d scooped out from their little plastic containers. 

“There you go,” he says. “All done. Great job, team. Here ends our Special Thanksgiving Operations. Successful, as far as I’m concerned. Thank you, everyone.”

But he knows it isn’t really over yet. No, the hardest part is yet to come. 

He brings his plate to his tiny dining table and sits down. He folds his hands together and takes a deep breath. 

“I am grateful for …”

His voice breaks. No prayer comes. What is there to pray for, when there’s no one left? What is there to be grateful of, when life just takes and takes and takes …

He cuts a small bite, throws it into his mouth. He looks around at his invisible guests, the ghosts around his table. He smiles. “Not bad, huh? We should do this again next year. I hope you’ll still be around, all of you.”

No one corrects him, of course. No one dares tell him the truth. 

To some people, ghosts and imaginations are all they can be thankful for. It’s a lie and an insanity, but what does it matter? People take whatever warmth they can get. Let’s not ruin it for them.

~~~

Disclaimer: This is not a Trader Joe's advertisement.

Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated! Also, happy Thanksgiving if you celebrate that.

[marc-spectorr]

It's me again hi, so I've been thinking about the boys as per usual and I fucking miss the fall and Halloween so here are my ramblings

Steven is definitely the boyfriend that will go on pumpkin patch dates and like walk around a corn maze with you and I think he definitely would be into matching couple costumes. He would try and go to horror movies and haunted houses but, it probably scare him too much and you would have to comfort him at the end of the night. Also Steven definitely buys pumpkin spice scented things around fall time you can't convince me otherwise.

Marc would definitely drag you to the horror movies and haunted houses I think he would enjoy them a lot. I can also see him lounging on the couch watching movies and eating a big bowl candy with you. I don't think he would dress up but, he might put the moon knight suit on to amuse you. Also I feel like Marc would drink apple cider.

I'm not to sure about Jake just yet, but I do feel like he might teach you about the day of the dead, and he probably make you try Spanish candy he grew up with. I can also see him dancing with you to the monster mash just around the house. Also he will be dressing up as Gomez Addams every year, from the fics I've read I feel like they would have the same energy.

That's all I got bye 👋

omgg hi again darling!!!

as a late autumn baby and halloween enthusiast, i am obsessed with your lovely thoughts on the moon boys during spooky szn 😩 like i can totally see each of them doing the things you described and ahhhhksjsk my heart is so warm and fuzzy just picturing it all !!!

for steven, i would add that it’s tradition for you and him to carve pumpkins together. imagine him picking out the most imperfect pumpkin just bc he believes that every pumpkin deserves a chance to be chosen no matter how they look. so he settles for this oddly shaped and looking pumpkin (think of a knucklehead pumpkin) to carve out and decorate. he does a fantastic job with it that his pumpkin ends up better than yours. ofc being the sweetie pie he is, he’s going to convince you that your pumpkin is more beautiful than his ;)

marc absolutely loves going to haunted houses with you. sure he likes the thrill of a harmless scare but what he enjoys the most is you clinging onto him the whole night. bc of that, however, he has to be the one leading you through the attraction. he does his best not to react when a performer jumps out from the shadows, but sometimes he can’t help it. by the end, he’s trying to act cool and calm though you teasingly point out that last high-pitch scream he had yelled out. he’d roll his eyes and pretend to be annoyed, but secretly he’d go to a hundred more of these if it meant seeing that bright smile on your face.

i’m really in love with the idea of jake sharing his culture with you around this time. just thinking about it makes me feel so soft omg. i also thought of jake surprising you with a basket filled with all of your favorite candies. one day, he overheard you grumbling about how much you miss going trick-or-treating as a kid. nothing beats the feeling of being handed so much free candy as a child. so when he finds out, he’s quick to stop by the grocery store and pick out the sweets he knows by heart that you love. he even tosses in one or two of those stretchy spider toys and a halloween sticker sheet to make you feel like a kid again. the moment he gives you the basket, he swears he’s never seen you so happy before, and he plans to make this a yearly thing that he does solely for you.

[medtech-mara]

If you haven't read it, the 1992 Robocop versus Terminator crossover is amazingly batshit. As someone who was pretty unimpressed with Frank Miller's script for Robocop 2 (or at least the comic adaptation of it), I liked it a lot. It actually feels like more than an empty action figure mash-up, but a genuine clash of tones and themes, Miller turning out be suprisingly good at evil AI monologues, and he and Walt Simonson could still comicbook like no one else. It ends in the dumbest and absolute best way it could.

I desperately wish I had the ability to sit and read like I used to. I used to be such an avid reader. I'd read a book a week depending on how much school/work got in the way.

Now I can barely even force myself to read a chapter before bed. I have attempted to force myself back to reading again, by reading my favorite book (which is not at all cyberpunk but is a historical fiction). And I DEVOURED that book, and I started on the Witcher after.... I'm still working thru it and 1Q84, which I have almost completed the whole series of 1Q84, but something got in the way, so i decided to start over a couple years after I put it down.. I'm still working my way thru.

I sometimes get the chance to read peoples Fics if they ask me to read it, but beyond that, I'm busy being a mother and world building... though, maybe I should cut back on my vidja game time for reading instead, but I really need instant gratification these days when I have so little time for me.

Though, I will put it on the list of books I might suggest hubby to put it on the list for Audible and see if thats something we might listen to together.

However if we wanna talk A.I, I can talk about I have no mouth and I must scream?

So FUNNY STORY ABOUT THAT!

I used to get such ANXIETY from Cyberpunk dystopia's or anything to do with robots/tech/a.i rising up, or what the government might do with such things. Like it created a whole existential crisis everytime it crossed my mind, just from "I have no mouth and I must scream." well and an i.t abusive ex

When I tried to watch Bladerunner 2049 for the first time, I couldn't make it past them flying over L.A. The oppressive architect and the darkness of the city, everyone all piled together (i grew up rural). It caused a panic attack, I tuned it off. I ofc have gotten over that, because of Cyberpunk: Edgerunners, somehow, that cured me. Thanks Studio Trigger. 👍🏽

Anyway AM is one evil sick A.I and scared me beyond belief. Still kinda does. He is A.I right?

[clefclefairy]

very very quick post on current Fandom Woes that i want to throw out so i can put it out of my head and go do important things (making sword)

1: 'ugh this is so OOC just make OCs if you're going to do this' and how does fandom treat OCs, exactly? do you RT people's OC art? do you call OCs "cringe?" do you ask questions about people's OCs? do you commission art/fic of people's OCs? do you think you're the arbiter of what "in-character" is for an entire fandom?

2. i was there 3000 years ago, gandalf, and so i can say with confidence: "he would not fucking say that" used to be unilaterally applied to any LGBT content. any fucking queer ships would be told "this is OOC, they've never said they were gay in canon!" and if you tried to explain like, basic subtext or the long history of queer-coding to some internet rando they would just call you a stupid fangirl. i'm not saying that's always what is happening now, but i am saying that this is where that attitude can and did lead, and still leads for certain queer headcanons. (try calling a character trans coded. see what happens!)

3. sometimes people just want to have fun. sometimes people just make jokes that do not align with their view of the canon characterization for fun. sometimes people just like to mash their current favorites against a thing they like or find funny. acting like this is killing fandom rather than simply personally annoying you is ludicrous.

4. again, not every post with this attitude is saying this, but given the current social climate surrounding AI art/AI chatbots/AI fanfic and the complete and utter disdain for fanfic writers and artists, "why even write this it's so OOC" feels very...entitled. you don't know what emotions, life experiences, formative media, styles of interpretation, and methods of critique/analysis someone brings to any given character. everyone brings themselves to the table of fandom and that's supposed to be a good thing. (coda: there are some ways people can willfully misinterpret characterization and be incorrect. people can also just be missing necessary context in their analysis. people just might not be good at analysis and interpretation. piss on the poor, etc., but outside of malicious willful misinterpretation, this isn't like. evil. you can just block and move on.)

5. i don't care if a fic is OOC to my personal interpretation of the character. i really, truly don't. i hit the back button and move on. you don't know why someone writes or feels the way they do about characters, and sometimes people don't want to write OCs! they want to process whatever's going on in their life with their favorite characters! and that is fine! even if it doesn't make sense to anyone but them! even if it isn't good! fanfic and fanart needing to be good is bullshit. you can't and shouldn't try to quality control free writing and art like you would professional work. (coda for the piss on the poor website: this does not include malicious hate speech and imagery. it DOES include topics you personally find unappealing. not everything is for you.)

6. fandom is a collaborative community experience and not everything is to your taste. you don't know why someone writes or creates or draws what they do, or why they're doing it. have a private circle of friends to bitch about stuff you don't like together. trying to make other people behave in ways you don't find 'cringe' or write and draw what you want, for you, isn't happening. block and move on, mute and blacklist, use your back button on fanfics, and mind your own business.

[the-web-syndicate]

We wanted to post some of our poetry! We aren't a poet by any means, and this isn't one of our favorite of our poems, but we wanted to share. This poem is about dissociation, especially depersonalization, which we figured was fitting for this blog. This poem was written at least a year ago, but we don't remember exactly when

Chromatic Aberration

By The Web Syndicate

The wrong colors

The wrong sensations

The wrong timing

It’s wrong, everything is wrong

Strange

Uncanny

My control over my body deteriorates, and I watch as someone else’s hands tap the screen

As someone else’s hands craft words and sentences I don’t recognize, that I never intended to use

As someone else’s hands try, and fail, to do things I know I’m capable of doing

I watch through the window behind the eyes meant to belong to me as my body acts in ways I didn’t intend for it to

I feel my movements at the wrong time, as if I am an afterimage of the body I’m expected to control

I recede further into the back of my own mind, and the only thing I can do is yell at myself for stupid mistakes

Dangerous mistakes

As this disconnect continues, I struggle to think in full sentences

My own internal words confuse me, mashing together incorrectly, incomplete

It’s disconcerting

My eyes glaze over, again and again

I’m unable to control how well they focus

I’m unable to control my comprehension

Unable to control my voice, it’s tone, it’s volume

I feel as though I’m underwater, unable to think

Unable to understand

Why can’t I understand?

What are they saying?

What am I doing?

Why?

The feelings come in waves, the tide falls and rises over and over

Until the imagined fear my brain was protecting against dissipates, the internal sense of safety returned

The world regains its proper speed, my hands make their return to me

I feel disoriented

My memory has become no more than clouds, visible but without substance

I view them in the third person, I watch my memories play back as if I am an outside entity

As if my soul had no connection to my corporeal form

Just as I feel no connection to the memories crafted

They aren’t mine

They weren’t created by me

They weren’t my hands

[beerandyarn]

Fic writing meme

Thanks for tagging me, @seethesunny!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

170

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

448,655

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just The Last of Us right now, but until recently Fringe was my go to fandom.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Dancing or Stumbling at 2,687 Wear Each Other Well at 472 Weight to Kite at 259 Things Shaped in Passing at 152 Your port in my heavy storms at 105 I am never gonna stop being amused that my top three fics are pwp Supergirl smut.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try, but sometimes my brain sabotages my best intentions.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

uhhhhhhhhh... Fallen, the Fringe fic where I killed off Olivia then stuck her in Peter's brain?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I dunno. I wrote a bunch of fluffy Fringe fic where nothing bad happened, so one of those, probably.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

There used to be someone who complained on every Fringe fic that paired Olivia with anyone other than Peter, and got especially salty when Peter was paired with Lincoln, so I drew a lot of ire there. :D

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes. All the smut. All kinds. Mostly now it's inline with a longer story and it plot driven, but I'm a big fan of pwp oneshots.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Love me a crossover! Probably Before the Storm, which is Fringe/Human Target, which starred the guy who played John on Fringe, and I mashed those two together pretty well.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, several of my Fringe fics were translated into Russian by an awesome fan.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yeah. It's been a while, but it's a really fun thing.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

uhhhhhhhhhhh, so hard to pick, I don't wanna. Probably the Leverage ot3 of Parker/Hardison/Eliot

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

There's a ton of Fringe shit that's never gonna get looked at again, let alone finished. I just don't see myself even getting back into that frame of mind.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I like writing action, and I think I do pretty well at it.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Dialog is the devil, and it makes me question my entire existence.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Awesome, as long as it's a person doing it an not machine translation.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The X-Files, probably. Like I can remember anything that long ago.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Things Shaped in Passing