#blurbity blurbs

[hearts4owen]

Imagine making jewellery and giving them to eddie!!that man would be jumping around giggling when u give him a bracelet u made and you best believe he would wear it everyday and never take it off. The only time he takes if off is when he takes a shower <33

377 words of fluffy fluff cus i love this man so much :(💓

You were lying on your stomach on Eddie's bed kicking your feet in concentration as you strung another bead into the elastic string. You recently picked up jewellery making as a hobby and you spent the whole week making an assortment of colourful bracelets and necklaces.

Once you strung the last charm on the bracelet you lifted it up inspecting it with a pleased smile.

"Hey eddie? Look i wanna show you something" you called out to your boyfriend who was sat slumped against the leg of the bed lazily strumming on his guitar.

Eddie turned to look up at you on the bed, eyebrows knitted as you brandished the finished bracelet infront of him.

" Oh that looks sick babe!" He crowed, climbing onto the bed to take a closer look at the hand-made jewellery.

" For you." You said, holding it out toward him expectantly.

Eddie gave a small gasp, like he couldnt believe what he was hearing.

" Wait seriously? For me? "

You laughed as he gently picked up the piece of jewellery from your hands and admired it, feeling each bead and charm.

"Yes silly, for you"

Eddie's smile was blinding as he pulled you into a big bear hug.

" Baby this is the most special thing anyone has ever given me" he crooned adoringly. You rested your head on his shoulder as he rocked the both of you back and forth gently.

"I swear i'm gonna wear this like all the time" Eddie declared pulling back fo fasten the bracelet onto his wrist.

You watched with a proud smile as he held out his hand infront of him admiring the bracelet on his arm.

" Im glad you like it Eds" you told him reaching out to push his curly bangs away from his face.

"LIKE?NO LOVE. i love it." He gushed leaning in to press one,two,three kisses to your forehead, his hand cradling the back of your head gently.

"Im wearing this always.Like forever. Never taking it off" he said with a nod of his head.

"...well, except for when i take a shower" he added with a grin.

You shook your head with a laugh leaning into his embrace as he raved on about the cute little charms on his new bracelet.

[rizadyke]

good luck with the school applications!!

Thank you!! I am very stupid and thinking abt doing them is stressing me out a LOT so I very much appreciate this :,)

[somethingmissingthiswaycomes]

God: A Message

Context: This is basically a blurb. It’s not a short story; it’s part of a book (series) that I’m trying to write, although not necessarily something that will be included in the final manuscript. It was written as more a sort of prologue motivator for myself than anything.

Proceed.

I’m going to get right to the point now. When you die, you become God.

This is not a bunch of philosophical nonsense, no what-if question about reality, and no fantasy world to make a religion out of. It’s real, and it’s a bullshit system.

When you die, you become a capital-G God, capable of creating literally anything you want. The only rule is that you can’t show up back home or do anything godly in any pre-existing, closed reality—and you’re given these nearly unlimited powers with only the knowledge and mindset that you had when you died. An old Christian grandfather would probably freak and wish to have a world where everything is the same, but he gets to go to Heaven. A two-year-old would possibly create a world where everyone loves and takes care of it forever.

Most people don’t think to do anything really creative or original; they recreate their lives, but better, or a carbon copy world of their interpretation of a story they loved. There’s probably an infinite number of worlds where Harry Potter is a real person that exists. I’ve met a few different versions of “The Doctor,” British sci-fi hero extraordinaire. Some of them were probably once fat dorks with nothing better to do than wish they were that cool alien on TV. Fanfiction? Not anymore.

The reason I’m explaining this is because I need to be understood. I need it to be understood that you’re not alone when you die. You have all these other gods, invisibly contemplating their own powers. You’re incapable of realizing that once you’re gone; learning will be impossible. I want as many people as possible to hear this and decide beforehand that their world will be open.

My world was open.

I’m not entirely unique in this, but it’s not incredibly common, either. It didn’t turn out so well. I wanted Everything to be real, but with this particular, prewritten fantasy as a center base for it all. I already believed in an infinite multiverse, so it wasn’t a stretch to create the world, pre-rendered, and just open a million doors that only I could pass through—doors that led to other open worlds that had whatever mine didn’t have. You could say that where an “open world” is like a city with no walls, mine was more like a train station that forcibly connected them.

It didn’t go well.

When I finally escaped that hellhole, it happened all over again. It’s not supposed to happen all over again. It’s just... not. I know because I can feel them watching me; their eyes are familiar, like a more powerful God, or the Three Fates. Someone is in charge of all this, and they’ve noticed me. I don’t think I’m the first, but mistakes are mistakes. I can’t continue to exist like this forever, and that scares me. There is a predator among gods out here.

I’m sending this out now as a call for help. It might get to you in a dream, or as an abstract thought. Could be that you’re a writer too, and you get the idea to write a book about it: do it, if that’s what it takes. Anyone can create any world they want, including, I hope, a sanctuary. Get the word out.

Knowing that my state of being is temporary and unlearning, I’ve decided to make something I know. In my recent life, I wrote this nonsense story about something like demons. That’s where I’ll go. I don’t know if my world will be vulnerable or not. If I’m lucky, I’ll be allowed to stay there forever.

I won’t make the same mistakes again.

[jawllines]

May we perhaps be treated to a little blurbity blurb of Prince Harry telling Y/N that he loves her for the first time ??🥺👑✨

SURE!!

[sweetnessfollowsmp3]

when you get this, please reply five things that make you happy then send this to the last ten people in your notifications :)

(no pressure of course!)

thanks for the ask ollie!

1. finding a new show to get into

2. finishing an assignment that i’d been procrastinating on

3. rain

4. walking outside (basic, i know)

5. discovering a new song

last 10 people (feel free to ignore i know some people don’t like chain asks: @roryphobe @crowsami @thatsapphicsoprano @asspinkie @darth-maximoff @ssokkas-instinctss @paintedlady-katara @omiomiomlettey @badgrl-675 @blurbity-blurb

[victorianworkhouse]

Blurbity blurb blurb

I do hate writing blurbs but am currently flailing my way through the blurbs for the Shamrock Romance series. Here is the first one for A KERRY MARRIAGE:

AN INNOCENT IRISH MAIDEN

Dewla O'Donough has never left her lovely ancestral home in Kerry, Ireland, walking through the forests with her cousin Thomas and telling stories with her father. But war calls Thomas away, and now her father is dying – and he takes action to make sure his only daughter is not left alone in the world.

A STOLID ENGLISHMAN

On his deathbed, he marries her to the son of his closest friend, Hugh Smith. Hugh doesn’t understand many of Dewla’s ways, but slowly grows to love his shy wife. He brings her to his fine home in the noisy, soot-stained city – and to his cruel mother and sisters, who make Dewla’s life a misery while Hugh is at the office.

A MÉSALLIANCE MADE IN GRIEF

When Dewla receives a letter, her mother-in-law immediately sees a way to undermine her son’s awful marriage and get rid of this “wild hoyden” once and for all. Will the newlyweds’ marriage survive? Or will these new revelations end their fragile romance for good?

A KERRY MARRIAGE is the first book in the clean and sweet Victorian romance series, The Shamrock Romances. The books are best enjoyed when read in order.

Order/preorder the entire series today!

Book 1: A Kerry Marriage

Book 2: Sweet Little Shamrock

Book 3: Whom the Queen Honors

Length: Novella

Heat level: No heat, sweet and clean

[hannahshattuck]

Quiet Mornings

A/N: Just a little blurbity blurb I wanted to get out before night night sleepy time

———————————————————————

The smell of breakfast wafting through the air slowly brings her out of dreamland and into reality. She rolls onto her back and stretches, the feeling of sleep slowly leaving her muscles. She reaches a hand to the side of the bed where he sleeps only to find cold sheets. Head turns in that direction, a small smile finding its way onto her lips. Sitting up with the blankets still covering her legs, she looks around the room. Window to her right, door in front of her, bathroom opposite of the window, closet between the door and window with two dressers inside. Bedside tables on either side of the bed, lamps on top of those, various nicknacks relating to each person a scattered across the tops. Clothes from the night before finding homes across different parts of the floor, his tee shirt hanging off her frame, her hair messy from sleep. Once consciousness has fully engulfed her, she moves the blanket off her legs and her feet touch the always cold in the morning hardwood flooring.

After standing, she makes her way toward the door and out the room following the smell of food. Standing at the top of the stairs, she sees him standing at the stove making breakfast, when her sleepy brain processed the smells. He’s shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips just under the waistband of his Calvin Klein underwear, feet bare as he moves about the kitchen humming to the coffeehouse style house playing through the speakers. She makes her way down the stairs, taking each step carefully as to not overwhelm her sleepy form.

She makes her way to him his back turned toward her. He won’t tell her but her heard her footsteps the moment she walked out of the room. She placed herself behind him arms wrapping around his waist from behind. Cheek rested against his shoulder blade she breathes in. He smells like home. She feels rather than hears the chuckle he makes when he knows what she did. His arm lifts as she slides around him to his side. His arm wraps around her shoulder holding her close. He continues to sway to the music in turn making her follow. A kiss placed to the top of her head, a welcome to the start of a new day. Her arms wrap tighter around him as her eyes close savoring the quiet morning before the world outside their windows and front door take this moment away.

The moment won’t be gone for long however. Because on the other side of night the moment resurfaces like clockwork. Never missing a day, never changing, and most of all, filled with the adoration two people feel for each other.

[quillsandspills]

A Short Blurb From Death, Who has Miraculously Turned Into A Cat (for some reason…)

(Literally took twenty or so minutes and I’m too tired to edit it, so enjoy…)

Word count: 398 Synopsis: It’s literally just about a cat that just so happens to be Death I do not in fact know why I appear in such a uselessly tiny body such as this. There is too much fur and not enough fangs. The claws, those I approve of. When I am myself again, I shall have a word with the Maker into adding some much needed upgrades to the creatures of below.

But my life as a cat, a smallish, youngish and easily distracted cat I might add, has been interesting to say the least. It makes the collecting of souls rather difficult and I find myself wondering constantly why I haven’t called for an assistant to help me. Of course, then I remind myself that I am Death and do in fact not need anyone to help me.

However, as I walk down the fog covered streets of this street, my paws are frozen. I’m tired, a feeling I never knew before. It drags me down to the ground as if I may die. The irony in that is too great and I yawn in response. I sneeze, scrunching up my face and shaking it out.

My whiskers are frozen and I feel ill as well. Food is so much harder to come by than I had reckoned as I tsked those who had died of starvation, dehydration and suffocation, things that seemed easy to come by. Literally there is air all around us, how can you just suffocate?

I shiver in place, huddled by the building that my black fur blends into effortlessly. There’s a man, sickly and shivering as well with a flashlight, walking near me. His light bobs up and down in the darkness, shaking to and fro along the sidewalk. When it lands on me, his dark, exhausted eyes begin to light up. He holds out a hand to me.

“Hello there kitty,” He coos at me as if he can find some comfort in his lowly life. I hiss in response and skirt away. It may have left him disappointed and more exhausted, but I refused to be affected by his moods.

It is time, in the middle of the night that is approaching, to begin soul collection in this town and then to hop off somewhere else. I pray to the maker that this curse will disappear soon with a mutter and a curse. Then off into the shadows I disappear to those who have fallen.

[clinic-crew]

writing is harrrrrrrrrd

blurba blurbity blurb

The hairdresser brightened.

“Ohh, fellow Unovians! Fancy meeting some neighbors all the way out here in this quaint little town.”  He began to run his fingers through Rhy’s hair, acquainting himself with the job before him. He gently tilted his head this way and that, all the while never ceasing in his chatter. Rhys had a slightly lopsided grin on his face, relishing the attention. Ivory knew that look. Knew from years of reading his subtle non-verbal cues exactly what was going on in his husband’s depraved little mind.

“I started out grooming pokemon, what with so many people catching lillipups and stoutlands and you just know that they need a lot of care with all that long fur and what would a trainer know about grooming? It’s all battles, all the time.  Oh but don’t worry dear, you’re lovely.” he added quickly, giving Rhys’s shoulder a quick rub. He didn’t respond but Ivory noticed him pull Bean a little closer to his chest, his smirk unfaltering.

“What a beautiful little flower you have there. Don’t worry darling when I’m through with your daddy I’ve got just the thing to make your adorable leaf glisten in the sun. Haven’t lost all my touch! Anyway I find the whole battle scene perfectly barbaric- no offense darling,”

“None taken,” Ivory muttered, because what else was he gonna say? It was a trial getting a word in edge-wise with this guy. His gaze began to drift to the carefully arranged magazines atop a nearby countertop. He lazily selected the closest as it was the only one he could reach and flipped it open. It revealed a photoshoot of some fashion designer. A well-sculpted male model languished atop a Victorian-style tableset wearing a silver turtleneck and tight leather pants and riding boots. A Persian prowled beneath the table, glowering at the camera.

Taptaptap

Ivory narrowed his eyes. How do you even fit in pants that tight? Wasn’t he hot?

Taptaptap.

‘Where is your dick?’ he thought to himself, bringing the picture even closer to his face.

TAP. TAP. TAP.

‘Maybe they’re painted on…”

The magazine went flying from his hands with sudden Vine Whip, startling him. His eyes met a glowering Chikorita making the angriest expression her little face could muster. It was the cutest fucking thing he’d ever seen.

(This guy?)

(He has nice hands, they smell like lavender.)

(You sure it has nothing to do with that fact that he won’t stop touching you?)

(Does that bother you?) His face fell. (I can ask him to stop.)

(No, I trust you.) He stroked Rhys’s wrist reassuringly, watching the man’s concern melt away.  (That’s why we’re talking now. Does he make you uncomfortable in any way?)

(No. What about you?)

(No. He talks a lot though.)

Rhys shuddered in a silent laugh. His fingers skittered over his palm.

(True, but we can fix that.)

(You’re terrible.)

(You love me though.)

(Well shit, you got me. I guess I do.)

Rhys flushed, then turned his attention back to the man currently turning his head away from him.

If only he could actually see what was happening, could see the youthful face so close to his, eyes focused in on the sideburns he was ever so carefully edging. Could see how he was trying so hard to not blatantly betray what was so obviously in his head about the married man in his chair. How his (admittedly distracting) lips seemed to get drier and more needing of his tongue as the haircut continued.

“Almost done darling,” his voice had gotten lower as well, an almost reverent murmur, “I do so wish my mentor had taught me how to trim beards. He was a beautiful man, with such an eye of fashion… but he was also small minded and had a downright phobia of facial hair! Such a shame.”

[abiik]

pspspspsps asks about the keme & zoe

[asphyxiatioun]

requESTS

requests are open ayee lmao 

also , ill be posting that lil au bc i wanna delete it off my computer anyway weyhey 

so ya request da blurbs