#Posted through a queue straight from me just for you

[timetravellingkitty]

GET SIRAJ TO 50K IN 2 DAYS!!

If you don't know by now, Siraj Abudayeh is a writer and journalist from Gaza. He is currently fundraising to survive through the genocide. He has a dream of rebuilding his home - this is his resistance against the settler state because he refuses to let the colonizers take over the city, the home, he so loves. Siraj and his family need to live through this difficult time. Everyday is a struggle where his family has to put in herculean efforts to acquire even the basic items of life. No one, who is from outside of Gaza can know how truly hellish these ten months have been. To provide you with just a glimpse of this hell, Siraj has asked me to share this message with you:

"Everyday, my children have to stand in a line to get 10 loaves of bread. You also have young girls, pregnant women, and the elderly. . . They all wait to purchase for their families, but the bakery is a wrestling ring! We quarrel with each other, scream until our throat hurts, and faint from the blazing heat! And the queue does not move while all of this is happening. . . Not even a prayer will save you from this misery!

For 3 straight hours, Muhammad, Siraj’s son, stood, counting on his fingers how many people will it be until it is his turn to receive the bread and return to his family. His turn has finally arrived.

Suddenly, an ear piercing sound slices through the the air!! It is heavier than an exploding F-16 missile: Children fled in fear, the bakery was hastily closed and Muhammad returned with a heavy burden of an empty stomach."

As of writing this $46,268 out $50,000 CAD have been raised. We have $3,732 left to go!

Please don't let it stagnate! As it has been mentioned before, Siraj is supporting more people than ever. He cannot afford the fundraiser to slow down. Every second counts! So please donate and share! Every bit counts!

Tagging for reach:

@deathlonging @briarhips @dirhwangdaseul @mahoushojoe

@rhubarbspring @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako

@feluka @terroristiraqiss @irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria

@deepspaceboytoy @post-brahminism @khanger @kibumkim @neechees

@mangocheesecakes @kyra45 @marnota @7bitter @tortiefrancis

@toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @evillesbianvillain

@aristotels @komsomolka @xinakwans @heritageposts

@ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @lonniemachin @dykesbat

@watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap @yugiohz

@socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @northgazaupdates2

@vakarians-babe

[lynhub]

dean winchester's highway hobby

⋆˚࿔entry from lyn.ᐟ OH how i missed posting on here. this is essentially just being fingered by dean while he drives, for some reason i only like writing car sex (accidentally have been doing this a lot). i'm literally writing roles reversed on dean cause why not. i'm gonna try to mass write tonight and then put everything into queue, but i hope you guys enjoy!! PS my taglist is going up soon :) ━love, lyn.ᐟ

mature content, 18+

one hand on the steering wheel, the other buried between your thighs – dean called it multitasking. truth was, he sucked  at multitasking. his gaze kept flicking from the road to your face, completely captivated by the way you bit your lip, lashes fluttering, and breath hitching with every slow curl of his fingers.

the impala was drifting dangerously close to the white line, then the yellow. he let out a quiet swear under his breath, his gaze forced back to the road – but it didn’t last long. not when you were gasping, squirming in the seat beside him, hips occasionally bucking against his hand when he hits just the right spot. 

“i think im drivin’ just fine,” he muttered, it was an unprompted statement. 

you let out a soft moan when his thumb brushes over your clit, the sudden jolt of pleasure making your hips jump off the seat. his fingers never stop, still massaging your inner walls with an expert precision

the cabin of the impala is thick with desire, the low rumble of the engine nearly drowning out the soft, wet sounds coming from between your thighs. dean’s fingers move faster now, slick with your desire.

dean’s intense gaze falls back to you, his voice dropping low as his fingers keep working you open. “you always complain about me fingerin’ you while i drive,” he huffs, his tone laced with amusement. his fingers slip out of your warm heat — only to push back in knuckles deep. “but you still spread those legs for me every damn time, sweetheart.” 

“dean,” you moan out, head thrown back against the seat, hips bucking up against his hand. “wanna come.”

he lets out a laugh, the deep kind that rumbles from somewhere in his chest. his fingers curling perfectly, making a come ‘ere motion, hitting the spot that makes your toes curl. the rough pad of his thumb never stops circling your clit, only serving to bring you closer. 

“you know i dont like when baby gets dirty,” he rasp out, his voice strained, “but i’ll make an exception for you.”

his fingers pick up speed, thrusting into you with more purpose, each movement is rougher, deeper. his thump presses down just a little harder on your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your core. 

“go ahead,” he hums, voice thick with lust. “make a mess on my seats, sweetheart.”

that’s all it takes.

your back arching off the seats, a broken cry ripping from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you — hot, intense, and overwhelming. your walls flutter around his fingers, clenching hard as waves of release and pleasure pulse through you. your thighs tremble, body shaking from the force of it, yet dean doesn’t let up — working you through every second, helping your overstimulated body ride through the high.

“atta girl,” he murmurs, smirking as he watches you come undone beside him. “knew you had it in you.”

despite the aftershocks rippling through your body, you manage to mumble, breathless, “eyes on the road. you’re gonna kill us.”

dean just snorts, smug as always, but his gaze shifts back to the highway. your eyes linger on his profile — jaw tight, eyes still dark with lust, lips twitching into a satisfied grin.

then, without shame, he brings his fingers — still slick with your release — to his mouth, sucking them clean with a low hum.

“don’t even need to stop for snacks,” he mutters around his fingers, smirking like the tease he is.

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist | dean winchester masterlist

[babybearnation]

boy, you got me drunk on a feeling

⎇lance stroll x gn!reader - he accidentally drinks your drink (oneshot) ⎇author’s note: inspired by my tags on this post. also first fic in 20 days.. this is scary, actually??? ⎇content warnings: drinking/alcohol, suggestive ⎇word count: 1.3k

You smile sweetly and accept the drink Lance hands you. It's your first whereas Lance is already on his second. He slinks into the booth next to you, eagerly joining in on whatever topic of conversation Esteban, Mick & Checo had chosen. You had zoned it out before, too busy casting a careful eye across the club as you tracked the path of your boyfriend.

It wasn't that you didn't trust him and thought he'd sneak off with someone else, no, Lance would never. But... drunk Lance is clumsy Lance and drunk Lance is a Lance who's had one and a half drinks. You were just being cautious, that's all.

You can tell Lance has gotten properly drunk when he shuffles closer, still deep in conversation as he latches his arms around your midriff, his head resting against your shoulder. You smile at his clinginess and peck the top of his head before looking around the club again. To be honest, you were just here for Lance, not really a big fan of the post-race clubbing scene. Too many WAG fights for your liking.

"Baby?" You turn back to face Lance when he calls for you, your faces really close together. You smile at him, a non-verbal gesture for him to continue speaking. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah. Just... looking around." You say, shrugging carefully so as to not dislodge Lance's head from your shoulder. Lance frowns softly, his eyebrows furrowing, before he's sitting upright.

"Grab your drink." Lance says, trying to usher you out of the booth. You look at him in confusion, eyebrows sharply furrowed. Lance huffs and grabs your drink as well as his. "I wanna dance, come on. Let's go." Lance says. You laugh softly at his enthusiasm and pluck your bottle from his grip before allowing him to lead you over to the dance floor, your fingers tangled together.

You and Lance stuck to the edge of the dance floor, your arms around each other as you danced together. Lance was singing the occasionally lyric here and there, his voice cracking with drunken excitement. It makes you shake with laughter each time.

After what felt like hours of dancing, you stop and lean in to whisper (or rather, yell) into Lance's ear. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom, okay? Can you take my drink back to the table for me, honey?" Lance nods and takes your half-finished drink from your hand before kissing you one last time. You watch him make his way over to the booth before turning and heading towards the bathroom.

After standing in a ridiculously long queue, you finally managed to get in and out of the bathroom, quickly pushing through throngs of people to get back to the table your boyfriend was adorably pouting at, all of his friends having disappeared.

"Lancey, honey, why do you look so upset?" You say, slipping into the booth next to him. He startles, looking up at you with wide eyes, before all but launching himself at you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders.

"Everyone left to get drinks. I stayed here for you!" Lance slurs. He's had more to drink since you left, you note. You look around for your drink, noting only empty bottles and glasses.

"And... my drink?" You ask, meeting Lance's gaze again. Lance looks around at the contents littering the table before gasping, his shoulders unfurling as he sits up straight.

"I drank it. Fuck. Y/n, baby, 'm so sorry. Forgive me." Lance whines, nuzzling his face in your neck. You chuckle softly, threading your fingers through his dark, thick strands, scratching softly. Lance continues to whine indecipherable words and you sigh, pulling his face away from your neck.

"What are you saying?" You say softly, smiling sweetly at the pretty yet intoxicated mess that is your boyfriend. His half-lidded gaze makes your stomach softly turn with lust, but you push it down. He's too drunk to be doing anything like that.

"Buy you another one. 'M sorry." Lance slurs. You think it over before shrugging. One and a half drinks won't make you that tipsy. You soon accept and before long, Lance is basically dragging you out of the booth the second you agree, giggling excitedly about making things better. You smile softly and let him lead you over to the bar.

Excluding the half of your bottle that he accidentally drank, Lance is on his seventh drink. You've already told him he has to stop after this one, but you still catch him sneaking sips of other people's drinks when he thinks you aren't looking.

"Y/n, my love, 'm sorry." Lance says, dragging the final word out. You smile at him, despite the confusion you feel. He whines and presses even closer to you, his lips pursed out in an alcohol-slick pout. You lean down and peck his lips, startling him, before he giggles excitedly, leaning up for another kiss. You deny him it.

"Why you sorry, Lance?" You ask instead, picking up your soda. You take a sip and offer some to Lance who perks up and eagerly sips from your straw, his eyes closing as he swallows down what he drank. About a third of your drink is gone now.

Lance seems to realise at the same time you do and he whines, nuzzling his face against your bicep like a cat. "Keep stealing your drinks." Lance slurs. He lifts his face up and you watch as his lip literally quivers, tears pooling in his eyes. It's adorable.

"Oh darling, it's okay. You're just thirsty, huh, baby?" You say, gently brushing your fingers over Lance's eyes. Your thumb comes away damp with unshed tears. Lance huffs before looking up with a pleading expression on his face.

"Buy you another?" Lance asks. You chuckle and lean down to kiss him again, more insistent this time. Lance whines and grips at your arms, pressing up against you. The kiss is a mess, spit smearing everywhere, but Lance is making the prettiest of sounds against your mouth, so you can't pull away just yet.

When you do finally part, Lance continues to look at you with pleading eyes. You tilt your head before remembering what he'd said before you'd kissed him. "No, honey, I'm okay. We're gonna go home soon, okay? I'm sober enough to drive." You say. Lance hums before snatching up his drink and downing the rest of it in one go.

You splutter before laughing, picking up your drink and copying him, forgoing the straw. "Bathroom first." Lance says and you allow him to lead the way, sighing in relief when you notice the lack of queue. You two quickly use the bathroom before Lance is clinging to your side again.

"Home, yeah?" You asks. Lance slurs 'home' in response before falling into a mumbled litany of 'sorry's. You shush him and sooth him through each one, but his words never trail off despite your insistent promises that it's okay and that you've already forgive him.

When you get to the car, you can't even open Lance's door for him, your boyfriend instead pressing you against the side of the car as he sloppily mouths at your neck.

"'M sorry... how do I prove 'm sorry?" Lance mumbles. The cold night air brushes against the wet patch of spit from Lance's mouth that stains your neck, and you shiver, tightening your grip on Lance's hips.

"Lance, honey, I've already forgiven you. I wasn't even mad to begin with." You say, chuckling softly when your boyfriend pouts up at you again. You sigh and roll your eyes fondly. You really ought to have learnt how dramatic Lance can be sometimes. "How about a kiss then?"

"Eighteen..." Lance murmurs. You laugh boisterously at his number choice before cupping his face, soothing a gentle thumb over the plump, pink curve of his cheek.

"Eighteen kisses for Mr. Stroll, coming up." You say, leaning in. Lance eagerly presses back against you. When you pull away, he murmurs a small one and a jolt of excitement goes through you. "You better count each and every one, baby."

"I will. Now kiss me again..."

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[wtfsteveharrington]

take the upper hand | carmen berzatto x reader

push the reset button we're becomin' something new

description: carmen berzatto is stubborn and anxious and doesn't always know how to express himself. your best friend drags you to a party that carmen knows you'll be at and he shows up to make amends and thank god he does because he saves you from dealing with some drunk asshole.

content warnings: angsty!! drinking/party scene, shitty drunk guy w/ a shitty guy mentality!!, reader gets hit on with one night stand suggestion tones, carmen's ready to swing, mentions of anxiety and jealousy. mentions of reader drinking. kissing, mentions of intimacy related scratches, some light smut references.

author notes: my first time posting something that isn't just smut!! also something that no one but me has read!! normally i always get a proof read, not today. but this idea has been rattling around in my ole noggin' for a minute now so here we are. reminder!! you are responsible for your own media consumption!! if this won't be your jam then there's tons of other fics in the sea (: ily thank you!

even if it's handcuffed i'm leavin' here with you

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The last place you wanted to be tonight was some house party in Wicker Park. With Pitbull, of all artists, playing so loud in the basement that the floor upstairs was still vibrating. Everything was sticky and stinky and you did not wanna be here.

But your best friend was hooked on this guy from her gym. 

It didn’t help that Carmy recognized his name from high school and mumbled out some remark about, “Oh yeah, no Dave’s a pretty solid guy.” She was convinced it was a sign that they were meant to be. Not to mention she found his mom’s Facebook and a post from two years ago that included his birth time. The whole train ride over you listened to how compatible the two of them were and how much she loved that he was a Scorpio rising. 

She had begged you to come to this God forsaken party and help put in a good word for her. Something had her convinced that if you mentioned just how well you were getting to know Carmen to this Dave guy that he would hold your opinion of her in higher regards.

And sure, maybe there was a part of you that hoped Carmen would be here even while the two of you were feuding. He knew it was coming up but couldn’t promise he��d be off in time - Something you got quite used to. It normally didn’t bother you that he had so many late nights at the resturant but when it rains, it pours and now you’re stuck sitting next to the sink littered cups filled with what can only be best described as some sort of horrific finance bro jungle juice. A mix of 1942 and fresh pressed juice. 

Your nose wrinkles up at the smell but you’re quickly refocused at the booming sounds of Ethan Callaghan stumbling through the back door. Another man Carmy knew from high school but didn’t like as much. Something about always being too in-your-face. Though you were pretty sure he was close with the guy your best friend was currently hooking up with in some random bedroom down the hall. 

The second his eyes land on you there’s a lopsided smile being thrown your way as he tries to fluff his hair and stand up as straight as possible. He’s stumbling into the kitchen with a full drink in hand, droning on and on about how he was ‘just so jealous’ that your friend went into that bedroom earlier. How nice it must be to not end the night alone. No pleasantries at all, just right into the whole lonely and horny act that was grossing you out. 

No one particularly knew you and Carmy were together yet - He wasn’t the type who wanted to label right away and potentially mess things up and you weren’t the type to out your dating status to random drunken men either. Besides, you weren’t so sure that ‘I have a boyfriend’ would put an end to this pitiful man’s sob story. 

As if, on queue and manifested right out of thin air, Carmen rounds the corner and takes a second to soak in the sight in front of him. You’re sitting there with your eyes trained on the water bottle in your hands. Ethan’s yapping away about how pretty you are and how big his apartment is. An excellent view in Streeterville that you’d love to see with the best brunch place in town two blocks away blah, blah, blah. Your shoulders are hunched over, body leaning away from Ethan as he stands at the window watching his reflecting in the window above the sink. 

“Hey - Been looking for you.”

Carmen.

Your head whips around to the sight of his voice instantly. There’s a pang in your chest at the sight of him standing in front of you after you two had been apart for these last few days. He looked tired. Wearing a sweater he knows you love because he wants to look nice for you. God you wanted to run over and crash yourself against his chest. Screw the petty fight. Instead you’re stuck giving him a very pointed look, hoping he takes the hint to save you. 

He’d be lying if there wasn’t a split second where Carmen feared you were actually going to go home with this loser until he saw the panic and annoyance written across your face. Ethan’s laughing at the sight of him. “Hey, Dude. Think we’re all good here, yeah?” Oh he hates this dick. 

There’s a thick level of tension in the room as Carmen squares up his shoulders and steps further into the room. His eyes are trained on Ethan who clearly wasn’t expecting much of a fight out of Carmy. He stops when he’s standing between your knees, putting himself between the two of you. Something about the way he instantly turned possessive turned up a feeling deep in your stomach no matter how annoyed you still were. 

“Pretty sure someone out back was looking for you, Dude. It doesn’t seem like anyone in here wants you around. Now either you’re too fucking dense to realize it or you don’t care that you’re not wanted, but I’m here to let you know. So I suggest running out back and getting the fuck out of our hair.” 

Ethan’s clearly entertained while looking between the two of you, a playful glint in his eye. You’re silently begging him to walk away and find yourself bringing a hand up to put on the small of Carmen’s back. While you’ve never seen him actually fight, you’ve seen many scraps between him and Richie. Heard stories of him growing up and heard the Bachelor party story. 

You’re fine not having your own fight stories to tell. 

T-Pain is now blasting in the background and the contrast of people laughing and singing downstairs versus the situation you’ve found yourself in is making your head spin. The whole time your best friend is clueless and wrapped up in Mr. Scorpio Rising. She owes you big time. Like you’ve secured friend of the year already and she needs to throw a parade in your honor after going through this.

Ethan’s finally putting his hands up in the air, that shit eating grin still plastered across his features. “My bad, my bad. Didn’t know you were already claimed.” Claimed. Gross. Your fingers press into Carmy’s back, a silent plea to beg him not to escalate this even more. He’s laughing at the sight of the two of you before snagging a half finished bottle of vodka off the counter and backing up towards the back door. 

Carmen steps out from between your legs and follows Ethan to ensure he leaves. Shoulders pushed back, chest puffed out. You’d find the sight entertaining if you still weren’t so on edge. Carmen Berzatto, your protector. 

And sure, he’s probably just making this asshole someone else’s problem for the night but he doesn’t care. The main priority is getting you away from him and getting you safe. 

You catch the sight of his curls out of the corner of your eye when Carmen returns and instantly steel your spine. The shift in the air now that Ethan is gone was thick. He was a distraction from the distance between you two but now you’re preparing yourself for another argument when really you had no energy left to give it. There was a small worry that he’d think you gave Ethan any inclination that you were interested. Even though you two had been tense, there was never anyone else but you but him. Even if you’re too stubborn to drop that information just yet.

Carmen’s quiet. His heavy boots against the floor make your heart beat faster. Everyone had scattered out of the kitchen when he walked Ethan out of there but not before giving you two a nervous glance as they went. Some probably disappointed there wasn’t a fight if we’re being honest.

“Hey.” 

You don’t dignify him with a response. Crossing your arms over your chest and taking a sudden interest in the magnets that littered this guy’s fridge. Toying with the idea of putting the ‘Area 51 is for Lovers!’ magnet in your pocket. You figured you deserved something for going through this hell of a night. 

He stops himself once he’s reached your side, the silence awkward and thick in the air. Carmy’s hand is on your knee now, his touch not as firm as you’re used to. The whiplash of emotions once again not helping either of you know just quite where you stand. 

“M’still mad at you.” 

He winces but he knew it was coming. 

The two of you wallow in silence. Carmy’s just about to finally speak but someone stumbles in on the hunt for vodka, takes one look at the annoyance on your boyfriend’s face, before quickly muttering they’ll find it somewhere else. 

And you still won’t look at him. 

He’s grabbing at your waist now, pulling you from the counter and against his chest. You wanna protest but there’s still a buzz going through your body that makes it hard to think quick enough to push back. Plus God does he feel warm and smell so good.

Carmy’s walking backwards towards the fridge, waiting until his back is flush against it to slide down. Bringing down those magnets you wouldn’t stop staring at, family photos, whatever was in his way came with the two of you. He’s tugging you until you’re straddling his waist while he brings his knees up to support you. Grabbing a hold of your face, finally making you look at him and fuck he looks like shit close up. Dark circles, hair a little messier than he’d normally allow, a bit of fear deep in his eyes. 

“You gotta tell me how to fix this.” It’s all unfamiliar territory for him. There wasn’t exactly a good example set for him growing up to say the least. 

Four days ago Carmen watched as the barista at some coffee shop you wanted to go to flirted with you. That shit already annoyed him, but he tried to bite his tongue. Then your latte came out with a heart in the foam and you kept explaining that’s just how they all come out but he was jealous and possessive and didn’t know how to communicate that so instead the two of you fought in the car for an hour. It was so stupid and he’s been kicking himself in the ass ever since. 

The past four days you refused to talk to him and had done a good job at dodging the situation. Normally you two fight, you fuck, and then you pretend everything’s okay. The cycle was getting old and wearing you down.

Until now. 

You give a heavy sigh, reaching out to toy with the bottom hem of his shirt. Carmy really did look like it had been going through it so you’re throwing him a small bone. “Maybe not making me sit on a sticky floor would be a good start.” He’s muttering out this small laugh, thankful to hear anything coming out of your mouth let alone a joke, the sound vibrating against your fingertips and you hate how much it fills your heart. 

He waits for the rest. The other shoe to fall. Every ounce of laughter is gone when you finally collect yourself enough for - “Do you think we’re good together, Carmen?” You can feel him stiffen under you, his hands gripping at your waist because he needs something to give him some stability. 

A beat goes by. “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Another beat, this time it’s Carmy who refuses to look at you. Eyes downcast and trained on your lap. “But I’m not sure I’m good for you.” You weren’t expecting that. 

Once again silence falls between the two of you, still toying with the hem of his shirt before you lean in to bury your face in the crook of his neck. Taking a deep breath that’s filled with his cologne, faint smoke, and just Carmen that you’ve grown to crave. “You just gotta learn to trust me, Carmen. Outta everyone in this world, I’m the main one who never wants to hurt you. Especially for some barista with a fuckin’ comb over.” 

You hoped he would laugh again, but the sound never comes. Instead you feel his arms go tight around your body, his knees coming up a bit more which makes you fully lean into his chest. He’s clinging to you, wishing so badly he knew what to say (or could let himself) say what he knows he needs to. Instead he’s just pressing a kiss ​​to your head, sighing into your hair. 

“I wanna be better for you. Just don’t know how.” 

The two of you cling to each other and fight to get as close as possible. The distance apart these past four days has left the both of you physically aching for one another. It’s been hours, days of a tense heart and checking phones for texts neither of you knew how to send. You press a kiss against his neck, leaning back just enough to grab his face in your hands and stroke your thumbs over his cheeks. 

“It’s scary for me too, y’know? This, us. You’re not alone in being scared but lashing out at me isn’t gonna solve anything. I’m not going anywhere, Carmy.” You take the first step in mending the relationship by leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. There’s a hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place as if he’s still scared you’re going to change your mind and run off before he can realize it’s happening. 

He’s letting you take the lead and only deepening the kiss once he feels your hands slide under his shirt. Fingers trailing along the toned skin while Carmey licks your bottom lip. Your hands glide around his back where you’re able to trace over healing scratches left on the skin from your last night together. 

Your lips part and you take the lead once again, letting your tongue slide along his and giving a low moan into his mouth as you taste him. There’s the lingering taste of cigarettes mixed with black coffee and Carmen. Once again indescribable and simply him. His grip on you tightens up in response and you know if you’re not careful then you’ll end up disheveled and tangled up in the backseat of his car or bent over one of the sinks in a disgusting bathroom. Both options you refuse to pick over getting home and letting him properly make this up to you. 

Dragging your nails along the healing marks, Carmen starts to lose track of his kissing. His grip on your neck tightening a bit more, hips rocking up towards you against his better judgement. The motion’s getting needy and sloppy and you have to pull away much to both of your disappointment. 

Shaking your head and bringing your hands up to rest flush against his warm chest. “You’re not gonna fuck me on this nasty floor. I deserve better than this.” Which, of course you do. He just gets carried up when he’s wrapped up in you. He’s nodding in agreement but can’t stop himself from licking his own lips to chase the sensation of you.

He’s looking over your features, his heart picking up pace even more than he thought was possible anymore. “Think you’re meant to be my forever, y’know? Sometimes I look at you and it scares the shit out of me because I look ahead and-... It’s you. Kids sitting at a table in the restaurants doing homework. A honeymoon overseas where I get to drag you around different pasty shops and restaurants and we’ll find random art in flea markets to hang when we get home. Take photos that end up framed. It’s you. Always.” 

Now how are you supposed to be mad when he’s this open and honest. Unpacking a future you had thought only you considered so far. You hope this behavior sticks. It’s not easy for either of you, but it’s worth fighting through the learning curve. “Kids, huh? Multiple? They’ll be your harshest critics, Carmy. I dunno if you can handle their reviews quite yet.” He’s chuckling, shaking his head with a lazy smile. “No, not yet. But one day.” The promise of more between you finally putting an end to this discussion for now. You make a mental note to remember this moment when the two of you bicker in the future - No matter what there’s always more on the road ahead of you. 

Which makes you smile too. Wrapping your arms around his neck. “One day.” You reward him with one more kiss, knowing that’s all the two of you can risk before you end up sprawled out on this floor. 

Carmy’s desperate to keep the lightened mood. He’s giving it a moment for both of you to calm back down from kissing before playfully scrunching up his face. “God you taste like shitty tequila.” It works. You’re laughing and swatting your hand against his chest, feeling a bit lighter than you did when you walked into this place. “Carmen Berzatto be nice to me!” 

He’s beaming at you now. Bright, happy. 

It’s a stark difference from the funk you’d both been stuck in since this fight started. The sight makes your heart swell and you bring a hand up to push some curls back off of his forehead. Leaning in to press a kiss against the tip of his nose. 

“Lemme take you home, yeah? Get you some food on the way? Gotta make sure someone so pretty doesn’t wake up with a hangover.” He loves taking care of you in anyway you'll let him.

You nod and carefully start to shuffle off of his lap. Getting yourself to your feet before reaching down to help tug Carmen up to his feet. You catch as he adjusts himself in his pants, a flush blooming along his cheeks and down his neck. Stepping back in until you’re chest to chest with him, you press a line of kisses along his jaw. Rough stubble going away once you find his lips yet again. You hum against his mouth, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek. “You gotta shave in the morning, Carmy.” He’s nodding instantly, reaching his hand down into his pocket to fish out the car keys. 

There’s a notification lighting up your phone - Perfect timing. A simple “Gonna spend the night ;)” text from your best friend. You can’t help but to grin and roll your eyes, turning the phone around so Carmen can see the notification too. He’s laughing while sliding a hand into your back pocket and starting to lead the two of you out of the kitchen. 

“Yeah, remind me to tell Dave that his friend fuckin’ sucks.” 

[audliminal]

It's Just a Game, Right? Pt 3

Masterpost

"You still good?" Sam's voice crackles through the walkie talkie, as Danny flies erratically through and rooms. Danny ignores it for the moment, focusing on his current task. Their distraction plan had certainly worked, but now Danny has to maintain his balancing act, keeping the giw agents engaged without actually getting himself hurt. "Danny?" Sam asks again.

"Real great timing, Sam." Danny mutters, changing his tragectory to straight up. He's on the roof in moments, and allows his body to slip back into tangibility without dropping his invisibility.

"I'm getting a workout for sure, but they haven't hit me yet." Danny says, the moment he has the walkie talkie in hand.

"Good." Sam's relief is clear. Sam was the least enthusiastic about this arg idea from the start, but this current plan, with Danny acting as a distraction had driven her almost frantic with frustration. "We're almost done filming, so you can probably start trying to lose them. And let us know if you need help."

"Yeah? What, are you gonna go ghost and come distract them too?" The joke comes out a bit harsher than intended and Danny immediately winces. "Sorry. Sorry that was supposed to be a joke."

Sam doesn't immediately respond and Danny hears footsteps on the stairs, so he jams the walkie talkie back in its holder and takes off, making sure to fly away from where his classmates are working.

Moments after he drops back into intangibility, the door to the roof slams open and three giw agents rush out, already taking shots in his direction. By now their strategies are familiar though, and Danny is already making evasive moves as he flies off.

"Straight lines are boring anyways," he snickers, dipping down, so he can fly directly through the floor of another building, and then shooting straight up for a moment before continuing on. "Though it would be nice if their damn sensors could stop improving..."

On the other side of town, Danny's class has just finished recording footage of their school with untreated tech. Tonight, Wes and Tucker will start adding the dozens of layers of encryptions and hidden messages that they've been layering their project with.

A surprising number of people have already followed their channel, but so far they've only broken through around two layers of the content they've posted, and certainly haven't even come close to finding the encoded file drops, where they've actually hidden the bulk of the information.

That's the reasoning for this latest idea. As far as the plot of their series so far, the green-tinted, garbled footage won't make any sense. So, if they can get this out there without getting caught, it might help queue the people investigating their videos to dig a little more in search of an explanation.

"Halt, ghost scum!" The booming voice below Danny is immediately recognizable as his dad, and he just rolls his eyes and groans, without slowing. The good news about his parents joining the hunt is that they'll likely distract the giw's own efforts. But it also means they're gonna be extra annoying when he gets home tonight. It's the kind of trade-off that Danny will take every time, but he reserves the right to be annoyed by it.

Danny's parents, like everyone else, are far from happy with the giw's occupation and quarantine of Amity Park. Jazz should be heading off to college in a matter of months, but instead she's going to be stuck here. Jazz hadn't even bothered sending off applications this year - a matter than had been the target of much distress by their parents, and the first thing that got them to really stop and think about what the giw were doing.

Recently, they'd even considered shutting down their portal, but unfortunately that had proved more complicated than would be reasonable. So ghosts continued to drift through, and Danny continued to swiftly catch them before the giw or his blundering parents could show up to cause problems. Most days he managed to get the ghosts captured and himself out without serious injury but, well, even if his parents had stopped developing new weapons, lately, the giw had only ramped up their efforts.

And Danny was stuck in the middle of it all.

"We're done and out, Danny. Please tell me you haven't gotten yourself hurt." Sam's voice comes through again, startling Danny away from his thoughts. He glances back behind him, and is relieved to see no signs of chase behind him.

"Yeah, we're good. My parents showed up with some real clutch timing. Maybe if we're lucky, they crashed into each other and they're out a vehicle or two."

"Yeah, if we're lucky." Sma laughs. "Meet up at the arcade?"

"Sure thing." Danny says, ducking into a nearby store and dropping his ghost form safely in the bathroom.

[the-moth-archives]

☾Hugs n Cuddles - Moon Knight System☾

Type: Fluff, small hunt/comfort for Marc

Word Count: 537

Notes: hello !! first I would like to say thank you for all the love on my previous post !! it makes me so happy that other people like my stuff !! I'd also like to announce that I have made character playlists for both Steven and Mark !! I will drop the Spotify scans at the end of the blog :D also i'll have a Ghost the Band fic in queue for those who found me thought that !! thank you all !!

i personally think the Moon Knight system is obsessed with cuddles and being closed to someone in general. all those years being lonely and being treated terribly makes them all crave attention but some of them are more scared of that affection.

Steven is not scared of physical contact and is over the moon when you touch him. sometimes when he has a bad day and sees you laying on the couch or bed, he olympic dives straight into you. if Steven was a cat, he’d be purring constantly and would never shut up. 

he mostly likes sleeping on top of you in someway. sometimes he goes completely dead weight on your back and woild stay there, if you’d let him. if you can’t handle too much weight on you, no worries! he can opt out for laying in your chest with his leg wrapped above yours like a body pillow. 

Jake is in the middle between physical contact but once he’s used to you and you get closer, he’s also just as clingy. if you’re shorter than him, he likes to drape himself on you like a coat. if you’re taller, he’s strapped to your back. he mostly likes to hold you, pressing you close to his side as you fall asleep or watch something on the TV

where ever you stand with your back turned to him, he always comes up to you and snakes his arms around you, pushing his face into your neck and smelling you. speaking of that, he loves how you smell; he’ll buy you scarfs so you can wear them for a bit, get your smell on it, then he takes it and wears it when he’s out and you’re not with him.

Marc definitely took a long time but you were so patient and so gentle with him. the first time you actually got to hug him was through Steven - you and Steven were cuddling on the couch when suddenly his body got really tense and a little shaky. you noticed it was Marc and you tried to pull away but he just kept you there. no words were exchanged the rest of the night. but after that night, he started opening up to your touch.

he LOVES when you cup his face. coo at him and he’ll melt in your hands. he loves noes kisses SO MUCH. he’s also obsessed with your smell. sometimes he likes to make a loud sniffing noise when he’s buried in your neck just to make you laugh and call him weird. you just smell like home to him. he also loves when you hold him no matter what size/hight you are, it makes him feel so safe. his favorite though is when he comes home late from his Moon Knight duties and he either lays his head on your chest when you’re on your back OR curl himself into you when you’re on your side. his favorite, FAVORITE, thing that you do is when you quietly sit together as you cup his face and run your thumbs up and down his cheeks or just rubbing his face in general. he just really likes his face touched.

pls just pet them all

^ the playlists !! warning, the songs are pretty sad :(

[awoooooooooooyoung]

ATEEZ IN BRUSSELS PART 1/1

여러분~~~ Over a week has gone by and I'm ready to talk about it (aka I've rested & recovered): Ateez in Brussels, the final performance of the Europe leg of Will to Power! This may become a multi-part affair, the writeup of the concert itself in this post and then maybe follow-up posts with some meta musings.

Let's go!

Getting tickets: Ok imagine you're me. It's the 3rd of February 2025, you've just seen Ateez in Amsterdam and you've gone a little bit insane, what do you do? Well if you really are me, you look if there will be another concert nearby (there will be), if people are reselling tickets (they are), if you have enough concert funds (you do), and two days and an inadvisable amount of money later you are the proud owner of a first-row Golden Circle seat for Ateez's final performance of Will to Power in Europe! > copious amounts of celebratory yelling go here <

Travel: Travel was more intense than expected. Brussels is technically not that far from me, but I had se ve re ly underestimated how LONG it takes to get past the ring of Antwerp. Also I had work on the same day, so by the time I left for the concert I was very ready to Shut Off My Brain and Be Entertained. I had scrounged up a fresh New Atiny Friend to drive together, and that really was a golden move because there's nothing to get you through rush hour traffic like yapping to someone who is delulu about the same 8 guys as you are. Also I gave her some keychains and she liked them :)))))

Arrival, queue, people watching: The queue in Brussels was a breeze because there wasn't one. We had aimed to arrive right when doors opened so NAF could secure a good standing spot and we could walk in straight away. She went off to get her spot and I went to chill in my chair until it was time to start. I didn't have @moonshine-aqua with me this time to chat to but there were plenty of people to observe in my section. Interestingly, there were a lot more people sitting alone here than there were in my general access section in Amsterdam. Maybe they also had resale tickets (like me), or didn't have friends who wanted to shill out a silly amount of money (like me), or they were teenagers whose parents paid for them (unlike me). In any case I think there's something about being in the Good Seats™ that made people extra cranky, maybe they were just hyper-aware of how much money they spent but people started squabbling about not being able to see or people dancing before the concert started and they didn't stop for the rest of the night. The section also was way quieter than the gen access section, maybe people feel shy to scream their lungs out when they're on their own? But the girl behind me was keeping a running commentary in French that I could basically follow every word of.

Seating: Ok the seating itself, it was kind of fancy right? Some 20 rows from the stage, at a dead angle to the extended walkway. Which is so close (but sadly not quite close enough to repeat @fayet's Guy's amazing flirting experience with Seongwha) that I had to come up with a whole new strategy to See As Much As Possible. In the end I settled on i) tracking one member across the stage to see their crowdwork and dancing or ii) watching the giant 5billion HD screen like 20 meters away for special moments like Seongwha licking his fingers. In general it wasn't really the best section for getting interactions with the members, Mingi and Yeosang came REALLY close but I think the section to the right of us was just a bit more well-lit so they tended to go there. And I was personally most interested in Wooyoung, but he seemed to be having a bit of a down night and stuck to waving at people at the barricades.

Show: Aside from small flourishes/details the show was identical to the one in Amsterdam. That's not a dig, it's a testament to the insane amount of preparation and practice that must have gone into it. @fayet likened it to a well-rehearsed big-budget musical and I think that's an apt comparison; I went to see the Phantom of the Opera the Sunday after and it had the same ease in the performances, smooth scene changes, well choreographed lighting, same amount of spectacle, etc. Also the volume dear god, I took my earplugs out for a couple parts so I could get properly swept up in the crowd's hype but I would not advise it unless you're desperate to acquire tinnitus. The predictability was also great for me and my work-stewed mind: ah yes, first the part where they are In Distress, then part where they look hot at the front of the stage, then the part where Wooyoung get's choked (Very Important), the part where they look hot at a bar… If the Amsterdam concert was an avalanche of impressions that left me feeling like I had to lie down every 1.5 seconds, this concert was like like putting on a familiar movie and just letting myself be thoroughly entertained for 2.5 hours. The highlight of the night for me was again the sequence of Ice on My Teeth - Arriba - Django, those songs are just SO FUN and sure to get the crowd going.

Closing thoughts: I'm way overthinking this writeup so here's my closing thoughts for now. Ateez is still a blast even if you're cooked out of your gourd. If you want to mitigate post-concert depression get yourself a @storkmuffin to yell at. And will I spend this amount of money again? Maybe. Who knows. Probably. I'll just make sure my funds are replenished in case I'm still riding the Ateez high next time they come to Europe (and I'll make sure to take @moonshine-aqua with me again).

Highlights

General writeup done, here's some highlights! I was especially on the lookout for differences with the Amsterdam performance, it's always fun when you get to see something not everyone got to see. :D

Yunho: Very expressive performer. I love in the first third of the show where he spends some time looking completely horrified. Incredible dancing, great freestyling skills. It's really mesmerizing to watch someone to whom dancing is second nature, like when you walk you don't have to think about placing your foot, you just walk. He looks like he doesn't have to think about how to dance across the stage he just goes.

Mingi: Im love him now. Complete ball of energy, he did like a billion laps of the stage. I loved how they styled him, all baggy clothes whirling past all the time. I didn't notice him AT ALL in Amsterdam but this time I just kept being pulled in by his charisma, whenever he didn't have to look Serious or Brooding for a song he was basically all smiles, waving at the crowd, making hearts, etc etc. Also hair slicked back is an incredible mingo look.

Hongjoong: Im sorry Hongjoong I wasn't famiar with your game. Idk how the smallest man alive has the biggest aura but he had SO MUCH CHARISMA. HUGE dancemoves, HIGH jumps, HIGH kicks. Every time I wanted to track Wooyoung I kept getting distracted by Hongjoong. Also he did his metal screamo intro for Guerilla and it was amazing.

San: beautiful and skilled to the point of being unremarkable. Like how a statue is beautiful but you don't want to [REDACTED]. Live vocals on point though which is INSANE given the choreo. I think any of them could star in a big budget musical at this point. He sounded like in the Dingo video but more out of breath. Insane insane insane.

Seongwha: fully licked his fingers. Ok whore (affectionate). Also insane live vocals hello Utopia.

Choreos: remarkable in sharpness, evenness, insane distance travelled across the stage. I would be looking at one member (ok I would be looking at Wooyoung) and it was like… Oh he's in front! He's in the back! He's twerking! He's in the back again! He travelled 8 meters while doing a perfect turn! Sick

ATINY IS THE BOSS: So right before Arriba Ateez asks one audience member: who should be the boss tonight? And that member of Ateez then gets to lead the audience chants going into Arriba. Well, this was the last concert right, so I was personally very curious who would be chosen to close out this tradition in Europe. And this wonderful perfect GENIUS Atiny decided that actually no, it's the last time, ATINY should be the boss. Perfect way to avoid any favoritism, and Ateez's reactions were so cute. They clearly didn't see it coming and they turned it into this fun moment where the audience got to call: "ARE YOU READY?" And then they started the song.

Ending ments: Hongjoong in particular had a long and touching ment about how much Atiny means to Ateez, and how he wants Ateez to be something that can make you happy on tough days. It felt somewhat off the cuff to me (or he had memorised it really well), and I thought it was cute that he was speaking so candidly about his appreciation for their fans. He also clarified even further in a live about wanting Ateez to be something fans can take joy from. And it's cheesy and all, but I really DO take a lot of joy from them, and I'm making new friends online because of them (hi @fayet @storkmuffin @minjoongism @iriswashername) and that's just really really fun and nice.

OK THATS IT. I was going to add more links but I ran out of steam love you all muah muah muah byeeee

[nikki-tine]

Pretty hastily slapped together, but here's a comm sheet for those who were wondering about the prices in my pinned post! I'm a little nervous about taking comms from social media again, but I'm open to it as my family needs the money so often now...

More recently, I've taken to working on iPad - this will be a more common thing as the summer months roll around and it becomes too stuffy to stick to my PC for working on art.

Here's what I CAN do, for the moment:

Cute, simple designs - Pokemon and simple (rookie-level or earlier) Digimon are a strong suit of mine, but if you have a wonderfully simple OC I can work with too then it'll do!

Cats. I loooove drawin' cats! If you have a Warriors OC, chances are I can draw em.

Fluffy stuff overall! (As long as it's simple enough, obviously - Fluff is another comfort thing I looove to work with. This means literal fluffy stuff like fuzzy animals/critters, and figurative fluff like cuddles and tickles!)

Sans!! (No seriously, I funkin love drawin' sans. If you got a Sans I can draw, I will happily draw him!)

Here's what I CAN'T do, for the moment, on the other hand:

NSFW art (This is because a) there's minors who follow this blog - I have to keep that stuff away (and keep them safe)! and b) I'm not ready to take NSFW commissions, and probably won't be a for a while.)

Heavy gore and themes (It's a lot to work with, and it's not something I personally dabble in if at all, so the result would NOT be to your liking if I tried more than likely lol)

Intricate Detail (I have my reasons for this! My wrist has been acting up more often in the last few years and so intricate detail is... overwhelming for me, right now, outside of personal work. It's just not a strong suit of mine, as much as I'd love it to be - it's not quite a part of the art style as it is right now.)

Added notes:

- I have the right to decline a commission if it either makes me uncomfortable to work with it or otherwise is overwhelming. That is to say, if one artist can't achieve what you're looking for then usually that's an indicator to hold onto your money for a bit until you find the right person!

I send the paypal link at the halfway point (the sketch, just before lineart) normally - but if you want to pay upfront, then please let me know. (I don't wait until the piece is completely done as a safety measure to ensure the person commissioning me doesn't nab the piece and run lol)

I CANNOT REFUND ONCE THE COMMISSION IS PAID FOR. The money goes STRAIGHT into family-related necessities like bills and groceries, and I absolutely CANNOT afford to return money when we are consistently struggling to even get food for the house, nevermind commissions. (It's also just kinda mean?? :c)

I am on commission burnout - what this means is that my work may take longer than usual to get done, but I hold to my word that I get it done no matter how long it takes. If you need the piece done as priority, then make sure you specify when giving the details for your commission! (I do best, however without a time limit or deadline to work with.)

As of right now, I'm practically (metaphorically) crying for simple designs due to this burnout! I need something I can just fly through to get done so I don't stress myself out further on a queue that's been waiting to be done for a hot second.

[manonblaqkbeak]

A Little Tumble

Rowaelin month Day 6: Misunderstanding Leading to Disaster. @rowaelinscourt

I hope it's okay that I'm posting this a day early, I have a busy weekend ahead and I don't trust tumblr's queue system tbh lol.

I can't wait to read everyone's stories and see what everyone does, I feel like I'm never on here anymore but I couldn't stay away for rowaelin month. I love this little tradition of ours!! Rowaelin forever <3

cw: forced kisses, teenagers being dramatic (although not about the forced kiss because that would be horrible), injuries and mentions of sex but nothing graphic and me attempting to be humorous because nothing super disastrous happens lol.

1700 plus words. Sorry for any grammar errors :)

Please enjoy!!! Xx

Aelin couldn't stop crying. She had been crying for an eternity now, or what felt like it. And everything hurt, from her eyes to her toes as she sobbed and sobbed.

She hugged her pillow tighter as she heard her phone vibrate on her nightstand. She didn't need to look to know that it was Rowan. Her phone had been buzzing for ages now. She was sure her phone would soon freeze from the force of all the notifications she was getting.

She should block him. She should, but she couldn't move her arms. She breathed in the scent of Rowan's aftershave that clung to his pillow.

He wouldn't be sleeping in this bed next to her anymore. Wouldn't buy her iced coffee every morning on their way to school, would no longer would there be talks about their futures. No more of him buying her favourite snacks as study aides. No more calling her 'Princess'.

She no longer had a future with Rowan Whitethorn and her soul broke at the realisation.

A soft knock rapped against her bedroom door, and her mother's voice filled her ears. “Aelin, sweetheart, can I come in? I just want to talk.” Aelin nodded, her throat too sore to speak. “What happened today, at school?”

Fresh tears left Aelin's eyes as she made herself speak the horrible truth. “Rowan broke up with me.” Her voice was raspy.

“What? What do you mean that Rowan broke up with you?” Evalin asked.

“He dumped me, mum. He dropped me for Remelle Frost.”

“Are you sure?” she had never heard her mother sound so confused.

“Yes! I saw him kiss her!” Just saying it out loud made her cry even more, if that was even possible. Her mother came closer to her, running a smoothing hair along her hair. Her phone buzzed again. “Can you please leave me alone, and take my phone with you?”

“Okay, sweetheart, but I'll be downstairs if you need me.”

Aelin just nodded and her mother left, taking Aelin's phone with her.

Aelin closed her eyes and sobbed some more.

X X X X

Aelin woke up to the sound of knocking—not on her door, but her bedroom window. She lived in a two storey house, so that only meant one thing; someone climbed the tree next to her side of the house and was standing on the roof.

Aelin sat up and saw Rowan outside her window, his face desperate as he knocked again. Like she was fucking blind and couldn't see him there. At some point it had started to rain and he was drenched.

Anger shot through her at the sight of him, that he would come here after everything that happened today.

She left her bed, her blankets tangling around her legs but she managed to stand up straight as she unlocked her window. “What do you want, Rowan? To rub it in my face about your new girlfriend? Because I don't want to fucking hear it.”

Rowan's face crumpled at her anger. “Aelin, please, I can explain. There's been a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding?” she hissed. “I saw you kiss Remelle.” Bile raised in her throat at the words, at the image that zapped through her head. Remelle's hands clenched in Rowan's school blazer, her lips on his. “If there's a misunderstanding, then I don't want to hear it. Go to your new girlfriend and leave me alone!” Aelin ripped off her beloved promise ring and threw it at him. He flinched as it hit his face and tumbled off the roof.

Aelin heard her parents voices echoing, asking her if she was alright, and then they were there, at her bedroom door, watching Rowan as he watched her.

“I didn't kiss her!” Rowan said, pleading. “She was talking about how she's leaving during the summer to go to a new school and that she didn't want to leave with no regrets and she kissed me. Forced herself on me, actually. I pushed her off. Lorcan saw the whole thing, he can tell you what happened. Please, Aelin, let me in.”

“I don't believe you.” Even though it did sound like something Remelle would do—and Aelin was aware that Remelle was leaving, and was ecstatic when she heard the news. She and Remelle had never gotten along, not even in kindergarten.

“Please, text Lorcan,” Rowan begged, his own eyes filling with tears. “He doesn't like you enough to lie to you.”

That was definitely true.

“Rowan, you should come inside, before you hurt yourself,” Aelin's dad, Rhoe, interjected. He ignored the glare Aelin sent his way. She was willing to text Lorcan but she didn't want Rowan in her room, not now.

Aelin went to ask her mother for her phone when her parents gasped and swore, and when Aelin turned around, Rowan had fallen off the slip of the roof and was on the ground.

Aelin had never run so fast in her life.

X X X X

Waiting in the urgent care felt like an eternity—which made Aelin dub this day as the longest day in her life.

But soon Rowan was walking out towards the waiting room—towards her—when Aelin noticed the cast covering his right forearm. Tears sprung up in her eyes at the sight.

“I'm okay,” Rowan said as he sat next to her. “No concussion, no bleeding on the brain or anything, just this eyesore for the next eight weeks. Thank the gods that summer has started, at least.”

“What about work?” They were both employed at the Stag Rose Grille as servers and were going to use half their weekly paychecks to go towards their trip after graduation next year.

“Doctor gave me a sick note, and I have a lot of personal leave saved up.”

Aelin nodded and they sat in silence, even as the loudness of the urgent care lobby surrounded them.

“I called Lorcan as I was waiting,” Aelin said after a moment, and Rowan's dark green eyes snapped towards her tear swollen face. And his heart broke at the sight, at knowing that she had cried so much over him. “And he told me what happened, about Remelle. I'm sorry that I didn't believe you, and I'm sorry that she forced herself onto you. Are you okay? We can go to the police and report it, I'll be with you every step of the way.”

Rowan leaned over and kissed his girlfriend on the cheek. “I'll be okay. And I just want to forget that it happened. I've already blocked her on everything—I should have years ago.”

“I blocked her, too,” Aelin said, “but not before I gave her a piece of my mind.”

Rowan knew Aelin, and knew that what she said wouldn't have minced words. “What did you say?”

Aelin's answering smile was the very definition of pleased. “That if she ever came back here or ever contacted you after what she did, I was going to set her on fire.”

“Aelin! I think that's considered a felony.”

“What she did to you is a felony! Besides, she called me a cunt and said I was insane and that she would torch me if she ever saw me, so I think we're even.”

Rowan snorted, even though it made his head throb a little—he had no concussion, but his head was definitely a little sore.

Aelin yawned and looked ready to pass out. “You should tell your parents what happened, I know they're away for their anniversary weekend, but they would want to know before they come home to an unexpected insurance bill.”

“I'll tell them later. Let's get you home.”

Aelin smiled and kissed him on the lips. “I like the sound of that.” As they slowly made the way to Aelin's car, she said, “I also like the idea of ordering an extra large cheese crust pepperoni pizza, with garlic dipping sauce.”

Rowan smiled. “You drive and I'll order.”

X X X X

It was midnight when Evalin checked in on Aelin and Rowan, the young couple clinging to each other in Aelin's queen sized bed, Rowan's cast resting on one of Aelin's many pillows.

The room stunk of garlic and cheese and she slowly made her way across her only child's room to open up her window to let in some fresh air.

As Evalin made her way towards Aelin's nightstand where the last of the pizza remained, Aelin's eyes cracked open.

“Sorry about today, mama.” Her voice was still a little strained.

Evalin reached down and kissed her daughter on the forehead and smoothed her hair away from her eyes. “It's okay, I'm glad it worked out for the best. And your father found your ring, by the way, it's in the kitchen, drying after its wash.”

“Thank you.”

“Get some sleep, you've had a long day.” Aelin nodded and closed her eyes.

Evalin grabbed the pizza box and froze at the sight of Aelin's bin.

She knew that Aelin and her boyfriend had made up after the events of today—they had been dating for three years, after all, and Aelin was very open about their relationship— it was the reason why Aelin's TV was so damned loud earlier, but she hadn't expected to see three condoms on top of the waste bin.

“Mama, if you keep looking at them like that, your eyeballs are going to fall out,” Aelin said, her eyes still closed. “Rowan got too excited—���

“I don't really need to hear the rest. Goodnight, love.”

Aelin chuckled. “Night, mama.”

Aelin's bedroom door closed and Rowan groaned beside her. “Did you really just tell your mum that I came too early?”

Aelin chuckled again, her boyfriends face a little red from the embarrassment. “She won't judge, she'll just tell me to cover them up next time like I normally do. Besides, she knows everything that we've done. And she's walked in on us, too, remember?”

Rowan's groan vibrated the bed. “No. I had made myself forget.”

Aelin smiled at how bright Rowan's face had become and pressed a great, big smacking kiss on her boyfriends cheek. “Goodnight, buzzard.”

“Goodnight, Fireheart.”

Aelin rested her cheek against Rowan's bare chest and fell asleep to the sound of Rowan's strong heartbeat and the light drizzle of rain.

[drarrypotterrenaissance]

So Good I Could Cry

I saw this post, and knew immediately that I had to write a fic for it. This is my first fic above a T rating, so it was written in one sitting before I could lose my nerve. What follows is the softest, most gentle M-rated fic I think you can find. Additionally, I am very ace, and thought that I was writing Harry as allosexual, until Vukovich told me how much ace Harry came through in this fic, so please take a moment to laugh at my naïvety and then to thank @vukovich for being a wonderful beta reader and for ensuring that I tagged this properly 💜

Words: 1,828 Rating: Mature Summary: There was a tumblr post asking who in your ship cries during sex, and I knew my answer immediately - Harry cries during, and Draco cries afterwards in secret. Read on ao3 here

It’s all so good. Everything has been so good, for months now, that Harry can’t really figure out why it took so long for him to finally ask Draco out. He can’t figure out why multiple years of amazing friendship didn’t turn into dating and kissing sooner, not when it only took him six months to realise that his feelings for Draco weren’t just platonic. He can’t figure out why it took them so long to get here, but he’s beyond glad that they finally have.

Harry’s lost count of how many dates they’ve gone on (although Draco probably knows; he’s obsessive like that, and Harry loves that he knows that about him), or how many times they’ve kissed, or how many scorching looks Draco has given him from the other side of the room. They’ve been taking things slowly, per Draco’s wishes, although Harry hasn’t minded, and has, in fact, been delighted to watch Draco open up to him even more with every dinner and every kiss, like a flower opening so slowly into the morning sun.

Now, though, they’re here, in Harry’s bed with Draco pink-cheeked and sweaty over him, for the very first time. And it’s so good, just like everything else, just like Harry knew it would be, because it’s Draco here with him. Draco’s nerves have dissipated, and he’s radiant, leaning down to kiss Harry, making soft little noises that Harry could listen to forever, beaming and laughing, pressing his eyes shut even as his mouth falls open. There’s a strand of hair that’s come free from its queue, falling alongside Draco’s flushed cheeks, and Harry is overjoyed to watch it sway back and forth, curling up into a gentle ringlet, because that means that Draco must secretly straighten his hair, and Harry knows this now, an intimate little secret to discover even in the midst of this intimate act itself. They’ve been together for so long tonight that Draco’s hair straightening charms have worn off, and he’s comfortable enough with Harry that he hasn’t bothered to refresh them, and now Harry gets to know that there’s a wave to Draco Malfoy’s pin-straight hair, and no one else gets to have that secret.

He reaches a hand up and twirls a finger through Draco’s hair, then cups his face to simply admire him for a moment. Harry doesn’t think that anyone could ever really look attractive during sex. It’s too sweaty and red-faced and slightly gross for anyone to actually look hot the whole way through, but Draco right now is so lovely, so captivatingly beautiful, both for his red-flushed, sweaty face and for how open he is in this moment of vulnerability.

“I love you,” Harry says, before he can stop himself. He’s said it before, a few times, and he’s certain that Draco feels the same way, even if he hasn’t said it back yet. Still, Harry hadn’t wanted to pressure him right now, hadn’t wanted to risk making Draco think that he had to say it back to him at this moment because of everything else. Draco beams, though, and kisses him fiercely, and somewhere in the middle, Harry tips over into ecstasy, coming back to himself moments later with tears wet on his cheeks and more still streaming from his eyes.

They kiss some more after, and then just hold each other close, drifting in and out of sleep for a while. Draco doesn’t say anything about the tears that took a few minutes to stop, although Harry thinks he’d be well within his rights to. Honestly, who cries during sex because their boyfriend secretly has curly hair? Instead, Draco just kisses him, and runs his thumbs under Harry’s eyes to wipe away the tears, and kisses him again while fresh ones appear.

When Harry wakes up an unknown amount of time later, he can still feel the salt, tacky on his cheeks. He passes a hand over his eyes, then scrubs it across his face, before reaching out to pull Draco close to him once more. His hand meets nothing but empty sheets, still warm from Draco’s body, but rapidly cooling. And Harry knows, because he knows Draco, that he’ll be back soon. He hasn’t gone far, nor has he gone for good, and Harry is sure of it even before he sees the light shining from under the ensuite door. If Harry could be patient for two minutes, Draco would surely return to him, eager to reclaim his place next to Harry in their warm bed, and to press his always freezing toes in between Harry’s legs. But Harry’s in love with him, and everything is so good when they’re together, and he doesn’t want to be separated even for the next two minutes, and so he gets up and pads over to the bathroom door, knocking gently to preserve the quiet of the pre-dawn stillness.

“Draco?”

There’s no answer, but Harry can hear the sink running, so he pushes the door open a crack and says Draco’s name again, sees his bare back stiffen slightly at the sound of Harry’s voice. He splashes water on his face once, then turns around with a towel pressed to his cheeks, patting himself dry even as Harry steps into his space and puts his hands gently around Draco’s waist. Draco leans into the touch, but doesn’t respond in kind, continuing to dry his face, the towel now an obstacle, keeping Harry from kissing him like he so desperately wants to. Instead, Harry slips his pinkies into the waistband of the boxers Draco has put back on, and gently smooths his thumbs up and down Draco’s sides.

“Hi,” he says, still making an effort to be quiet for no reason.

“Hello,” Draco whispers back, the towel still obscuring his face and muffing his voice slightly.

“Is everything alright?” Harry gives one of Draco’s hips a gentle squeeze, and Draco sways slightly into his hand.

Draco nods, but doesn’t say anything, and the towel is still hiding his face, which means Harry is forced to judge by Draco’s stiff shoulders how much of a lie his nod was. Harry slowly pulls the towel down, revealing Draco much as he was only an hour before; his face is red and blotchy, his hair is mussed, and his eyes are closed. Unlike before though, his face is now wet with tears instead of perspiration, and Harry feels a stab of pain go through his heart at the idea that something is marring this perfect night for Draco.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, moving his hands to cup Draco’s face, almost able to see the same motion echoed between them from earlier in the evening.

Draco shakes his head, and another tear falls to meet Harry’s thumb before being wiped away.

“Nothing. I’m fine, truly I am. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Harry wipes away another tear and tilts Draco’s chin up gently until he meets his eyes. He can’t quite parse the emotions that he sees going across Draco’s face, but he can understand, at least in part, how Draco must be feeling. Tonight was a big step for both of them, their first time together, but it was Draco’s first time ever, and Harry feels like his chest might burst with love for Draco for letting him share this moment with him. Some of that must be reflected on his own face, because Draco gives him a watery little smile and tries again to explain.

“I’m fine, it’s just…” ‘A lot’ finishes Draco’s voice in Harry’s head, but he remains silent and gives Draco the chance to say the words for himself. “A lot,” he says, with another small smile, and then his lower lip begins to quaver again. “It’s all been really good!” he hastens to add. “And I’m fine!” he says, more tears splashing down his face. “It’s just a lot, all at once.”

Harry nods his head, wipes Draco’s tears, and kisses him. It’s not one of their best kisses, Draco sniffles in the middle of it, and Harry’s pretty sure that there’s snot in his mouth, but it’s still absolutely perfect, because it’s the two of them standing together in the middle of Harry’s bathroom at some wretchedly early hour in the morning.

When they pull apart, Harry swipes his thumbs across Draco’s cheeks again and says, “I get it.” At Draco’s raised eyebrow - and, oh, what a joy, to see Draco’s dearly loved prickly little personality pushing through his tears - Harry reminds him, “I was crying earlier tonight, too.” He shrugs. “It can be overwhelming sometimes, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t amazing.”

Draco scrubs the towel across his face once more, then fits himself to Harry’s body, pressing his face into the spot between his neck and shoulder that he had been kissing earlier that evening. Draco’s nose presses into a tender area, and Harry thrills to consider that he might have a bruise there in the morning, and can’t wait to avoid all of Draco’s attempts to heal it with magic, instead letting it linger for days as a reminder of tonight. Maybe, he thinks nonsensically, he could even get a tattoo there, to preserve it for all eternity.

“I woke up and wanted to wash my hands,” Draco says out of nowhere, the words slightly muffled against Harry’s skin, “and when I saw myself in the mirror, I just. I don’t know. I guess I thought that maybe I would look different, afterwards. Which, I know that’s silly, but I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to see. And I couldn’t tell if I looked different or not. All I could think about was how I must have looked to you-”

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Harry interrupts, and Draco laughs a little before pressing on.

“And then I was thinking about how you looked at me, and, and, and you love me-”

“I do,” Harry says,

“-and,” Draco’s fists tighten against Harry’s back, and he can feel the material of the towel Draco is still holding move against his spine. Draco pulls back slightly, and looks Harry in the eye. He’s a bit of a mess, with his cheeks a chaotic pink and his eyelashes spiky from tears, but once again Harry is certain that he’s never seen anyone more lovely, “and, Harry, I love you too,” he says, and possibly some other words after that, but those are lost into Harry’s mouth, kissing him thoroughly before lifting him up, letting Draco wrap his legs around Harry’s waist, and carrying him back to bed.

When Harry wakes up the next morning, it’s with Draco curled around him, his face pressed against Harry’s chest, and the bathroom hand towel, which Harry now realises is the novelty Celestina Warbeck one that Draco got him as a joke, squashed under his armpit. It’s so strange, and so perfect, that Harry wants to laugh. It’s all just really good.

[victoriousfidelity]

hello beloveds 🧡 i'm here for a little while (albeit with very spotty wifi) while i'm on this train, and i just wanted to get an update up before i get back to actually writing. i've been very unwell (both mentally and physically) while i've not been posting here. honestly, i'm still doing fairly terribly - but plans made while i was doing better loom on the imminent horizon, so i'm trying to be a functioning person. that includes being back here, although probably in a slightly different capacity to how i've done things previously. i don't have time to update my carrd at the moment, so please take this post as a temporary stand-in when it comes to my updated rules! following: i've gone through and softblocked any archived blogs / blogs that have been inactive for more than a year, along with unfollowing any non-mutuals. you are always welcome to refollow me if you become active again, this is purely a housekeeping thing. threads: i've updated my thread tracker! you can search your username and check the status of any of our threads. i'm slow, but i don't drop things unless you're inactive for a lengthy stretch of time. on that note: i've put any threads which haven't moved in over a year (or which were with blogs i'm no longer following because of the above) onto a separate tab on that sheet - the 'archived ic' tab. if you want to carry anything on which has been moved there, please do! i'll just move it back to the 'ongoing' tab. again, that's primarily a housekeeping thing as my tracker was getting somewhat unwieldy. sideblogs: the sideblogs to this blog - @ofvanaheim, @harmbidder, @tempusetveritas, and @hverfamodir - are all tied to this blog's canon. you need to be mutuals with me here to interact with them. plotting is preferred, particularly if we've not interacted much across my blogs yet. ooc messages: going forwards, i would prefer not to engage heavily over tumblr ims. i'm crap at them, we all know this, i always have been. but especially at the moment when my social battery is pretty much permanently at -50%, i find that little notification of how many unread messages i have on here incredibly stressful. i'd like to stress: this is a me issue. with that said, please add me on discord. i'm lovehurried on there, and while i'm often offline at the moment i find it infinitely easier to regulate what notifications i see / catch up on things when i am up to socialising. either way, please don't expect fast responses from me anywhere right now. it's nothing personal, i'm just trying to pace myself. activity: i'll be around a little this weekend, and then my blogs will be running on a queue while i'm on holiday next week. after i get back, it'll probably be a mix of queued stuff and sporadic straight-to-dash stuff. miscellaneous stuff: do not involve me in drama; i am in my 30s and more than capable of assessing whether someone's behaviour on here warrants me blocking them or not. anon is temporarily off across my blogs; the amount of spam messages coming through was truly insane. tag your content; you are entitled to write whatever you want on your blog, but i'm also entitled to curate my space on here and if people don't start tagging their smut / violent content etc i will be unfollowing them. there we go. right, the wifi on this train is terrible so i'm probably going to lurk on mobile for the rest of it. if i'm not around later tonight then i will be around to get some writing done tomorrow! thank you all for being so patient, understanding, and generally lovely; i know i've been awful at replying to your kind messages while i've been mostly in hiding, but i do see them and i appreciate you so much 🧡

[castlebyersafterdark]

Loving the massive divide in the foah fandom over Noah vs. Finn’s sex prowess. Allow me to share a perspective since its a burning quest here. I think they take turns depending on the day. 

When Finn is TOP: 

https://www.instagram.com/finnwolfhardofficial/p/CeEr4UwuDXR/?img_index=1

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/682365781069285495/

These pictures of Noah are taken by the man Finn wolfhard himself during s4 drop and dare i say the angles are serving a particular purpose.

finn's caption: "my god do I love' the people I made it with" and almost entire post is about noah. him sleeping, looking up and he made him pose a certain way. roleplay in trailer--finn the director. he definitely directs noah as he likes. that's for sure. 

When Noah is TOP:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GAv1YugWNXA

Make no mistake. Noah also carries a major top player vibe. Here he almost passes as a straight guy with Big Dick energy. obviously biggest turn on is his Deep voice. Very hardcore straight guy voice. It's too hot for gay community.

Throughout the interview he gives Zero fucks. Calls out millie and finn for their bs and casually dominates the room. makes finn nervous through his steady gaze. 

Finn meanwhile gives a mom vibe (don't put it back in the bowl) and Noah is such a dad who is careless and just doesn't care enough.

Big Fan of your blog vinny. best ever.

Sharing the photos because they're classics! There's debate over who actually took the Noah pic but I'll always always HC Finn did that, wanted that photo, that angle. You're never gonna shake that from me. He liked it enough to post...

Director Finn... always great energy...

Now, the other idea? We can all think what we want but there's not much that's ever gonna make me envision Noah with top energy especially with Finn 🤣 sorry, I just can't do it, and while I love that interview I dont see it, also they're too young, didn't get there yet. Still cooking. Also. I can never see Noah as this "straight boy," even if he wasn't out here. He's at most just a young guy vibing here but ooooh baby needed to cook a little for sure, both did. Yeah he was probably masking a LOT back then but it's impossible to put retrospect glasses on since I don't have the past view without them.

Wait wait maybe... I'll give you something here, anon. I should have watched to the end. Oooh ok, I can concede that there was a specific bratty moment that's killing me. Queueing this one for a few days ahead to give you that gift. The incredulous reaction to Finn calling himself a Good Boy. I'll let you win this one specific round for festive sake hahaha 🎄🎁

[backthenatfifteen]

This is a really difficult post but this is my honest account of attending the eras tour…

I ended up with VIP general admission standing tickets to Wembley for the 17th. I was completely torn whether to queue up or turn up late and go to the back. When I loaded the ticketmaster site, I was 50 in the queue to get in. I got in, it kicked me out and I rejoined the queue as the 50,000th person. I cried. I only had the option of VIP standing at this point.

In the end I decided to queue up from 12.30. The queuing outside was well managed but when we got in it all went a bit pear shaped. People were pushing in on the grounds that they needed to be with their friends. Half the time this was legit, the other half it wasn’t. I started out row 5 from the front and ended up row 10. I wanted to cry before it had started. The Wembley staff really did nothing to prevent this and you could sense the tension on the floor. I held back tears.

The stage is absolutely huge. You can’t comprehend how big the stage is until you get there. When Taylor was at the far end she was a speck. I could only see the far end of the stage when I went onto my toes. I did this for an hour until my calves were screaming at me. Stood normally I couldn’t see the stage and I could only see the top of the screen. I’m 5’’5 so average height. There was inevitably no room to dance but I wasn’t surprised at this. I was just surprised I couldn’t see anything at all. I kept having to ask my 6’’2 husband where Taylor was on stage 😭😭 maybe I’m naive as hell.

When Taylor did come to the T zone, everyone’s phones went straight in the air, completely blocking my view. I completely understand people want photos. I got some photos. But people don’t need 50 photos at the expense of everyone else’s experience. You need 1-2. I swear mobiles will be the death of our generation.

“A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground, with no one around to tweet it”.

Taylor did look at me through the sea of phones. I don’t know if I’m being crazy but I’m a massively empathetic person and when she looked in our direction I felt like she was scared of us. And I completely get it if that were the case because everytime she came down our end, the phones went up like robotic arms. I was scared of us, too.

I’ve spent the last 24 hours mourning and thinking “could’ve, would’ve, should’ve”. But I got the experience I was given. It didn’t occur to me to buy multiple tickets for multiple dates. It’s just not how my mind works but boy do I regret it. I bought one for me and one for my husband. I wish I had gone at the back and danced my little socks off. I’ve been trying to get a press pass for tonight but I’ve left it too late. I can’t afford resale tickets.

I watched 95% of the eras tour through the back of other peoples phones. You will look at those photos they and others have taken and think “wow, what an amazing view”. They were holding their phones 2 feet above their heads. Their phone may have had an amazing view, but they did not.

I love Taylor and I know she loves her fans. I don’t want her to feel bad. I just wanted to be honest.

Note to add: there are no channels to complain to. I’ve messaged ticketmaster and got cut off. I’ve messaged Taylor nation and got silence. I paid £250 per ticket.

[miladydewintcr]

from the regency-inspired prompts: "full stables, with multiple high quality horses halla and a sickly old horse halla kept for sentimental reasons" for ghilan'nain (and possibly andruil) AND/OR "i'll go through this so we have a chance. it's a risk worth taking." from the sacrifices sentence starters prompts, for the Stolen Throne gang (hell yeah! fellow stolen throne fan!)

Woo high-five!! So both of these prompts were incredible, thank you <3 I um, wrote both. I'm gonna post the first one here, and queue up the second one in a seperate post so they don't get muddled? (I'll tag you in it ofc!)

For @thedasweekend

tw: animal death

Rating: T Ship: Ghilan'nain/Andruil Word-count: 819

translations:

da'ghil - little teacher/guide (used here as a pet name)

vhenan - heart (also used as a pet name)

Killing the halla was not an option. In fact, when Andruil suggested it, Ghilan’nain had left her with deep, welting scratches on her arms, chest, face, in a rage.

Andruil had eventually been able to catch her hands, wrapping her in a tight hug that also, conveniently, pinned her arms to her sides, and whispered soft words into her hair until she calmed down.

“The offer is there,” she’d told her when she finally felt able to let her go.

“I won’t need it,” Ghilan’nain hiccuped, her eyes red and her cheeks streaked with tears.

Andruil had responded by wiping her tears away, and pointedly not agreeing or disagreeing with her sentiment.

It was hard for her. Andruil was a killer at the best of times, and allowing a wounded or sickly animal to continue living seemed impractical to her. The creature was suffering. It was no use to anybody. And it was going to keep using up resources- food, medicine, Ghilan’nain’s time- that could be better placed elsewhere.

Still, she found it hard to deny Ghilan’nain anything, especially when she pleaded. She could wait this out, she was sure.

Ghilan’nain took to sleeping in the stable, curled up at the back of the sick halla’s stall. Andruil had someone bring her food for the first few weeks and, then, started to bring it herself, just so that she could see her. Because otherwise she wouldn’t; Ghilan’nain refused to leave the sickly beast alone for even a moment.

Andruil was not a worrier, not usually. But she did stay and watch and make sure than Ghilan’nain actually ate the food brought to her each day, because it wouldn’t do to have her most favourite person starve.

Then she’d have two sick creatures in her stable to deal with.

Despite all Ghilan’nain’s efforts, all her attention, the halla continued to wither.

“I could make it quick,” Andruil suggested one evening. “One arrow, straight through the eye.”

Ghilan’nain shot her a look, the fingers running over the halla’s flank clenching into a tight fist atop its wool, and Andruil knew that, were its weary head not currently resting in her lap, she would currently be on the receiving end of more vicious scratches.

“She is my creature,” Ghilan’nain said, voice shaking. It was clear to Andruil that she was fighting to keep her volume down lest she spook the beast in question. “I made her. I raised her. I will not let her die.”

“Sometimes, I don’t think it’s a question of letting things die, vhenan.”

Ghilan’nain tossed her hair, and huffed.

Not a week after that exchange, Ghilan’nain met her at the stall door for the first time. The halla lay on the floor behind her, its breathing erratic.

“Fetch your sister for me,” Ghilan’nain said, almost frantic, reaching for Andruil’s hands and lacing their fingers together.

Recognising this comfort-seeking behaviour for what it was, Andruil tugged one hand free to pull her into a hug, smoothing her palm against the back of Ghilan’nain’s head. “What has happened?”

“I think you were right, and I would end her with herbs.”

Andruil mouthed a silent blessing to the ether before pulling back to look Ghilan’nain in the eye. “You are certain?”

She nodded. Her eyes were red, her cheeks wet and splotchy, and Andruil suspected she had already agonised over this decision for hours. “Tell Sylaise to bring her most poisonous concoctions. Something quick.” She turned to look at the sickly creature over her shoulder. “I would have her fall asleep, I think, and just fail to wake up.”

Andruil squeezed her hand. It would be easier still, she thought, to just shoot it. Certainly quicker. But the halla were Ghilan’nain’s, and her decision was all that mattered. “I will fetch her immediately. Will you be alright on your own?”

Ghilan’nain nodded. She was trembling like a leaf, and Andruil was reluctant to leave her alone, if only for a short while.

She leaned in to press a kiss against her forehead. “This is the right decision, da’ghil. I am proud of you.”

Ghilan’nain shook her hands out, as though she could dislodge the anxiety from her body with the movement. “Be quick?” she pleaded.

“Count the seconds.” She wiped Ghilan’nain’s cheeks with the pad of her thumb, and then turned and rushed towards her eluvian.

When she returned, hurrying Sylaise along with an assortment of glass bottles in her arms, Ghilan’nain had gone to sit at the back of the stall, a soothing hand resting against her halla's side.

She looked up, met Andruil’s eyes. “One thousand and seventeen,” she said softly.

It took Andruil a moment to realise she had been literally counting down the seconds. And despite the sincerity of the situation, the grief already hanging thick in the air, she couldn’t help but smile, shaking her head fondly as she ushered a confused Sylaise into the stall.

[dreamwatch]

First fic tag game 📖

Pick a fandom and post an excerpt of the first thing you ever wrote in that fandom. Could be a scene, part of a scene, a couple of lines, whatever your first foray into writing for that fandom was. Feel free to include a link to the story it comes from if it’s been published (excerpts from WIPs count too).

Thanks to @vthx for the tag!

So about twenty odd years ago I was active in another fandom, wrote a few drabbles and a few chapters of abandoned, never published fics. Not even mad about it, they were shit. So below is the first thing I ever wrote for Stranger Things back in about March 2023. This was the beginning of my post S4 fix it, and I jumped straight in with multiple POVs, jumping around all over the place, setting myself up for a fail basically. I have about 5k written, but I don't think this will ever see the light of day so below you have the opening scene, unedited, not spell-checked, blah blah.

*Also note its in past tense - evidence that it is indeed an early wip. God knows fanfic broke me when it comes to tenses!

Wayne Munson couldn’t tell you exactly when he became so attuned to sounds. He had spent much of his life learning to block them out. Gunfire and the screaming of young men; the constant churn of machinery at the plant; screeching guitars in the middle of the afternoon when he’s trying to sleep. He’s learned over the years how to just zone it all out.

But now he’s listening. 

The squeak of shoes on linoleum. Doctors and nurses talking to each other, not to him. Alarms. Good alarms (it’s normal, nothing to worry about, Mr Munson) bad alarms (you need to step outside while we work), constant electronic beeps that tell him his nephew is still alive, the whoosh click of the ventilator that tells him Eddie has air in his lungs. He’s listening, now, to all these sounds that tell him that under the dressings, the machinery, the tubes and the wires, somewhere under all of that is his boy. They’re keeping him here with him. So he listens, and now these sounds are Eddie. These sounds are Eddie telling him he’s here. 

—

He was at work when the earthquake hit. The plant was twenty-five minutes outside of Hawkins, not close enough to be seriously damaged but close enough that they knew something major had happened. They cleaned up what they could, only becoming aware of what had happened on their doorstep because of the radio blasting across the plant floor (another noise he’d been able to block out over the years). Phone lines were down, but the radio said it had been an earthquake, smack bang in the middle of Hawkins. Crew members started to gather, concern growing for families and loved ones, panic at not being able to get through to anyone. No one calling in, no one able to call out. It felt apocalyptic. The radio continuing to talk of damage, casualties, deaths. And in all of this, he didn’t know where Eddie was.

He finished is shift early, making his way back to the shitty motel he was staying in. He could see the plumes of smoke, the heavy clouds hanging over Hawkins. The highway clogged with army vehicles and first responders going one way, and cars full of kids and pets going the other. They had the right fucking idea. He wished he’d done that years ago.

As he pulled up in front of his room he took note of the extra cars in the lot, a queue outside reception as people desperately tried to get a room for the night. Any other time maybe he’d have considered giving up his bed, wouldn’t be the first time he’d slept in his truck. But these were the same people that were looking for Eddie, and who would shoot him or string him up as soon as they laid eyes on him. So fuck ‘em. He pushed the key in the lock, harder than needed, and entered the room. Slammed the door behind him. Locked out all the hate.

He didn’t bother with the light switch as he walked through the door. No piles of clothes, books, tapes to navigate his way round (Jesus, don’t touch it, I have a system!). He laid his keys, his wallet and his watch carefully on the bedside table. Loose coins stacked by denomination. He took his clothes off carefully, folding them neatly and placing them on the single wooden chair that sat near the dresser. He should shower, he really should, but the adrenaline after the chaos earlier was leaving his body, making space for his fear to grow. He needed a moment, just a moment to himself. Wayne dropped onto the bed, mattress sinking and groaning as he shifted his weight. He’d just close his eyes for five minutes, try and get a hold of himself. Just five minutes.

The banging at the door startled him awake, and he realised he'd fallen asleep, sunlight streaming through the windows. Banging again, louder this time. He’d already chased a couple of assholes away this week, after last night he was in no fucking mood. He was ready to let his exhaustion, and fear and general fucking anger out on whoever was dumb enough to be banging on his door after waking him. He wasn’t expecting to see Calvin Powell on the other side of the door.

“He’s not here, you should know that by now. I’ve seen the patrol car passing through.”

“We found him.”

Wayne could feel the sudden swoop in his guts. He was vaguely aware of clutching at the door, his knees suddenly soft. Chief Powell didn’t miss it.

“He’s alive,” Powell rushed out. “But he was badly hurt in the earthquake. He’s been flown to a trauma centre in Indianapolis.”

Wayne felt sick.

“I have to warn you, there will be officers from IMPD waiting for him and he’ll be kept under guard until he’s well enough to be charged and taken into custody.” 

Wayne ran a shaky hand across his mouth. 

****

No pressure tags, share if you want!

@cchapsticck @thisapplepielife @the-unforgivenn @occasionaloverboy @kikidoesfanfic @devondespresso

[happiestplacehq]

                   SECOND STAR TO THE RIGHT                                                AND STRAIGHT ON TILL

                                                     SEASON TWO !!

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. ⛧*｡ .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. ⛧*｡ .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.  

It is with great pleasure that I can finally announce the end to our hiatus, and the beginning of the new season of HAPPIESTPLACEHQ!

I cannot wait to see what the future brings for us, and hope that you are all as thrilled as I am to be back. Keep your eyes peeled for updated bios and graphics, new characters, events and plot drops, as well as an update to our rules and pages.

Not everything is complete just yet, so pardon our pixie dust for a moment longer while graphics continue to be changed in the coming weeks.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. ⛧*｡ .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. ⛧*｡ .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.  

Please find below a full list of everything that has been updated during our revamp. Once you have read through the updates, roleplaying can once again begin!

The Rules Updates - [read the new rules page here]

New activity and character rules are now in place for all players! Please read carefully as this is in effect from 1st October.

Activity Changes

Players must be active on all their characters at least twice per month, on two separate weeks. (For example, posting on the 1st week of the month and the 3rd week of the month). This will be checked at the end of each month, and a warning issued to those who have not posted within this time span.

You must have an interaction with at least 2 other players (not characters) on each character. If you are seen to only be interacting with certain players (bubbling) and not reaching out to anyone else in the RP you will be issued a warning. You will be notified if you have been inactive on individual characters.

Please keep on top of the threads you owe and don’t drop threads after the first or second interaction. Reply to the starters people make for you, and reply to the replies you get on your open starters. Reply to open starters!! I will be checking reply counts on threads. Reply to your replies and communicate with your partner if the thread isn’t working.

If you’re going to be gone for between two weeks to a month or more, you must ask for a hiatus. You do not need to give a reason for the hiatus, but you are asked to check in with us at the end of your hiatus if you need an extension or are returning to the dash.

Muse posts do not count toward activity. Completing tasks does, as long as you have also been active at least once in the month.

Other Rules

In the interest of diversity and making our group as welcoming as possible to all writers, your 2nd character’s faceclaim must be either a Person of Colour, Body Diverse or Gender Diverse (or meet multiple criteria). If your 2nd character is not a person of colour, then your 3rd character must be a person of colour.

As our upper limit has been extended to 10 characters, we ask that no more than 4 characters are white & cisgender. This means that 6 characters must be diverse in some way, meeting at least one of the above criteria.

Starters are your friends. Please reply to at least two open starters before posting your own, and remember to post an open starter at minimum every few weeks so all players have a chance to interact.

So I know you have read and understood these changes to activity and character diversity, please reply to this post with your least favourite colour.

Character Bios

All bios will be receiving a fresh coat of paint over the next few weeks including better formatting and new graphics (the graphics load was too much to finish before the hiatus ended)

All currently taken bios will be reposted via the queue with new graphics and the updates everyone sent to me last month. (For blacklisting, I will be using the tag #happiestbio).

Open bios will be getting updates including new FCs and re-writes, which are still ongoing with the graphics. These will simply be updated rather than re-posted.

The character navigation page has been updated.

All old OCs have now been archived.

Page Updates

OOC and Contact Pages

Locations - now includes a long list of brand new locations! You can find it [here].

The navigation sections and plot drops section is currently being updated to be more cohesive. (This was more work than anticipated, but a dedicated page to the entire plot thus far is in the works.)

Applications

OC applications will now be open to all until the end of the year to celebrate our new season!

Applications will be open again from October 1st.

Our first acceptance of the season will be Friday 4th October!

Coming Soon

Our next event!

Another big plot drop and a big push toward furthering our plot!

New bios are on their way, and I'm super excited for you all to see them! These will be mixed into the queue with the taken bios.

A locations blog is coming soon, which will feature information on various spots around town. (Thank you Naomi for your ongoing help with this!)

Once again, thank you all for sticking around! I look forward to writing with you all again.