#decided to reblog it untagged

[thenixkat]

Anyway, if you aren’t Black don’t use any variation of woke. I don’t care what conservatives are calling fuckers/using as the new sjw/political correctness/what have you.

If you know what fuckers mean use what they mean, and if you don’t why are you copying what people are saying?

Woke ain’t for you. If the discussion isn’t about Black people being aware of and/or educating other Black people about racism/antiblackness/structural inequality/all the other bullshit then it doesn’t need to be used in the discussion.

[zukkaoru]

mutuals if you're gonna reblog stuff abt the sephora spider lotion can you p lease tag it

[fitzselfships]

Hoping and praying that that one video of the guy throwing up on the news or whatever it is isn't going to be going around on here and make tumblr completely unusable for me for who even knows how long </3

[donnie-with-a-cup-of-coffee]

This blog is pretty disorganized and cluttered and i think thats just because it was my first one and i didn’t really know what i wanted out of the site when i first signed up. I want to start making fandom art for my comfort shows but i might just make a whole new blog at this point. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: double chapter day?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The summer sun brings little warmth to the castle of Debray. Those left behind in the shadow of their lord’s march to war, bide their time with baited breaths and unspoken worries. The duchess sinks into her cups, a nectar to her already sharp tongue, as her daughter buries herself in her wardrobe. 

Lady Jazlene hands you dress after dress, demanding a stitch here or there, only to snatch it back and have you cut the cloth of another to alter yet a third. And a fourth, fifth, sixth. Strips of fabric and loose buttons litter the drawing room table as you and Merinda put your needles to work. 

“Motherrrr,” Jazlene swirls around, swaying her hips back and forth, “it has been a fortnight already.” 

“Your father will return soon,” Lady Rezlyn slurs before she empties her goblet. She has no husband to chide her away from excess. “Never fear, dearest.” 

“That is not—mother, what am I to do? I have no wedding dress!” 

“You have no mind,” Rezlyn snickers, “you will have only rags by the time you decide.” 

“Hm,” Jazlene approaches the table with her hands on her hips, “mother, that gown with the gold lace. The one you wore last solstice--” 

“My gold lace,” Rezlyn sneers, “no!” 

“But mother. I only want the lace. You can have it re-trimmed. It would look much nicer with pearls,” Jazlene whines, “do you not understand? I am to marry a king. I cannot look as some simple countryside daughter.” 

Rezlyn clucks and shakes her head, “if it hushes your endless moaning, have the lace.” 

Jazlene gives a triumphant grin and turns to you. She grabs your arm and the needle catches in the fabric, slipping from your grasp, “go fetch mother’s dress. It is rosy satin.” 

“And wine! Bring more wine,” Rezlyn interjects. 

Jazlene rolls her eyes and flicks you away with her fingers. You hastily retreat as Merinda grimaces at her labour. Your fingers hurt from the endless hemming and seaming and you’ve noticed she’s jabbed herself more than once as the noble daughter changes course back and forth. 

You flit from the chamber and sweep down to the kitchens. The descent into the cellar is lit by only the candle in your hand, the flame wobbling dangerously before you. You find a bottle of the duchess’ preferred and climb back into the light. 

You snuff the tallow and quickly press on you. You climb the stairs again but falter as the wail of a horn breaks the afternoon din. You spin and turn to the window. Several other servants cluster beneath the arched opening as they try to see the horizon. The blast comes again, three in quick succession, followed by a long blare. 

The noise of chain and mail comes from the courtyard below. The few men left behind to man the castle walls are quick to action. You can see the flap of banners and nothing more between the other curious bodies. 

“Who is it? Enemy soldiers?” Waldon wonders. 

“I cannot see, my eyes are dim,” Margite shields her vision from the sun as leans over the sill. Their chatter swirls at the approach. 

“It is them! The Lord’s banner!” Stellan exclaims, “I can make out the sun and the sword on the banner. And the Winter King’s white crown.” 

“They return! They return!” Another cries out, “are they victorious?” 

You shuffle away. You forget about the golden lace and return to the drawing room. You enter and look down at the bottle in your hands. You blink, trying to recall what you were about to do. You set the wine on the table near the duchess as Jazlene seizes your other arm. 

“Where is the dress?” She snarls, “ugh, are you so useless--” 

“They’ve returned,” you utter cluelessy. 

“They...” Jazlene begins. 

“The king and your father, my lady,” you explain, “we saw them through the window. I thought to say so before I went to your mother’s wardrobe--” 

“Quiet!” She shoves you away, “I need a different dress. The crimson slit with ivory. Yes, yes, now!” 

She pushes you again and you stumble to the door. 

“And slippers,” she calls after you, “Merinda! Get over here.” 

You scurry back out and to Lady Jazlene’s chamber. You enter and sort through the mess of her clothing strewn and heaped about. You find the red and ivory dress and a pair of slippers of a similar hue. You are certain to bring a selection of jewels and pins to assuage any further remonstrance. 

In the drawing room, Jazlene has Merinda fixing her hairpins. You approach with your armful and lay it on the table. Outside the walls, you can hear the chaos unfurling. You can hardly keep the noises straight as cogs grind, ropes groan, and the noblewoman carry on their tittering. 

You help Jazlene step into the dress, Merinda holding the other side. As you work at the sleeves and skirts, she fidgets around. 

“The king? The king is with them for sure?” She breaths. 

You nod, “yes, my lady. His banner--” 

“Mother! They have won. They must have.” 

“Do not be too presumptuous,” the other lady rises and nears the table, snatching up a string of pearls, “come. Put these around my neck.” 

There’s banging and knocking and footfalls and voices yelling. The walls cannot keep out the rising fervour. Horse hooves and rusty hinges. They are close, in the castle or more. You pull tight the laces of the dress as Merinda clasps the pearls around the duchess’ thick neck. 

There is someone before the door. A shadow darkens below it for just an instant before it opens. No permission is asked as Lord Dustan clatters in. His eyes is swollen near shut. 

“Daughter, wife, you must come down to the--” 

Heavy, steady steps follow him. You continue to weave the laces through the eyes, going as fast as you can. 

“Father, I am not dressed. I am not ready to receive--” Jazlene protests. 

Dustan looks behind him and backs away from the doorframe. King Geralt fills it with his large figure, a dark cut along his hairline though he hardly seems bothered by it. Otherwise, he is untouched, unblemished. You knot the laces as you peek over Jazlene’s shoulder and his gold eyes shimmer in the low lantern light. 

“Your highness,” Jazlene gasps and drops to a curtsy. You stand, dumbfounded for an instant before you bend your neck and your knee to his status. “We were not warned of your coming. I pray you have tasted victory,” she raises her head slowly, “and we may wed in celebration to ring your reign in the Summer Kingdom.” 

He grumbles as his eyes search the space. Dull yet vibrant at the same time. He tilts his head as his jaw squares, “a king’s wife mustn’t fret so much about silks and wine,” he growls as he breaks the threshold. He marches to the rigid high back chair and lowers himself, “victory is mine but that does not mark the end of my efforts. I have no kingdom until all that which has broken is repaired.” 

“Certainly, your highness, and I will be by your side to help you amend what has been injured. As your loyal wife and queen,” she wilts as she wobbles just a little, “I am only so happy to see you alive and returned.” She rises as straight as she can and sweeps over to him, pushing out her chest, “but not unharmed. Your highness, you have been wounded.” 

She goes to touch the gash along his forehead and he motions her away with a flat palm. 

“It is not dire,” he insists, “Lord Dustan, where is your bishop?” 

“I sent away for him. He will come,” the duke avows. 

“The bishop?” Jazlene looks to her mother. 

“For the vows, precious,” Dustan assures. 

“The vows? Now? Today? But father--” 

“I haven’t time to wait around on paltry feasts and drunken hordes,” the king insists. 

“But-- but--” Jazlene stammers, “I am a queen, I should have a wedding.” 

“You are still but a duke’s daughter,” the king snaps, “a wedding you will have. Let us swear the words as was arranged. Then we must away.” 

“Away? Away?” Jazlene echoes again. 

“Take this parrot away from me,” King Geralt barks as he slams his fist into the arm of chair, “I tire of her squawking. When the bishop arrives, fetch me and I shall keep the oath I made.” 

The edge in his voice cannot be missed on that single word. He is a man who would not break a promise given, not the like the one cowering by the door. You glance up slowly as you notice Jazlene quaking. You can tell by her fists that she is not so much afraid anymore as she is angered. 

“Daughter,” Rezlyn girds and touches her daughter’s arm, “a wife should learn first to obey. Let us go paint your lips and await the bishop.” 

“This cannot be...” Jazlene hisses. 

“Quiet,” Lord Dustan snaps, “you want to marry, you marry as you are told. Out.” 

Lady Rezlyn keeps the duke from grabbing his daughter, instead steering her through the door herself. Merinda follows first and you trail after. The king grumbles, “Debray, leave a maid. She may fetch me that wine.” 

“My lord,” Lord Dustan points you back tersely, “the wine.” 

“Leave me,” King Geralt demands of his fair-weather lord. 

Dustan retreats and shuts the door heavily. You turn and cross to the table where you left the sealed bottle. You put your hand around the neck and lift it. You face the king and cross to him with your head low. 

“Your highness, would you like a goblet?” You ask. 

“I am not interested in imbibing,” he reaches beneath his mail and pulls free a grey handkerchief, “pour it on this.” 

You crack the wax seal of the bottle and grab the bulbous head of the cork. You wiggle it but cannot dislodge it. You struggle with it and he wraps his large hand around the pregnant bottom. 

“Little maid,” he slips it from your grasp and puts the kerchief in your hand. 

The uncorks it with only his thumb, flicking free the stopper, and he reaches out to you. You press the cloth to rim and he tilts it slightly, wetting the fabric. He pulls it away and reaches to place it on the floor. You look at him curiously. He leans forward and runs his index below the gash in his head. You get his meaning and daintily press the damp cloth to his head. 

“The alcohol cleanses,” he says as he leans heavier into your touch. 

“It looks rather painful, your highness.” 

You wince at your own careless words. You don’t know why you said anything at all. He sits in silence, breathing slowly. At last, he sits back and looks at you. You drop your hand and your chin. 

“Might I get you anything else, your highness?” You offer as you fold the cloth into a tight wad. 

“Tell me, how do you fare?” 

“Your highness?” You peek up at him through your lashes. 

“Are you well? Have you rested? Are you fed?” He prompts. 

You raise your head, surprised by his questions. 

“I am well, your highness. I have a roof above me.” 

His cheek ticks, “same as you were. Same as I remember.” 

He puts his head back and closes his eyes. He sighs deeply. You waver before him, unsure what to do next.  

“I don’t mind the cold. My land is frigid most days but I felt a true shiver out there on that road. Even Roach could not ease it.” 

You watch him, awaiting an order, not so well attuned to conversation. More often than not, a response is not warranted, just action. He gives you little direction though he is a man who easily commands. 

“My horse. Stinky steed,” he muses as he keeps his eyes closed, “valiant nonetheless.” He lets out another heavy exhale, “will you mind the door? Wake me when the bishop arrives should I doze?” 

“As you wish, your highness,” you go to the door, taking your usual stance beside it. 

He is still. The amber light of the lantern limns his large figure as he reclines in the stiff chair. He does not move but a man who has ridden to war has slept on worse. You cannot tell if he truly slumbers but you know it is not appropriate to stare. 

You remain in silence. It isn’t so bad to the duchess and her daughter. Almost serene if not for the tension of the man’s presence. A king. A wintry figure with his icy hair and colder demeanour. You do not envy Jazlene, he will be a rigid husband. She will not bowl him over as her mother does the duke. 

You listen beyond the walls, trying to track the activity beyond. There are softer voices you can’t make out, creaks which could be only the wind, and footfalls which are most certainly only servants about their tasks. The tedium stretches on as the lantern light wobbles. 

You stare at the wall opposite. The summer hue breezes in with a hint of pollen between the open curtains. Still the chamber remains dim in stone and mortar. 

There is the crank of the gates and you shift. You turn your head to hear better the entry of a new party. A man’s tenor from below assures you of the arrival. You wait until the footfalls reach the stairs. You do not relish waking the king should he have managed to sleep. 

You look to the king in the chair but find him alert. His eyes are centered on you as he sits straight, golden irises blazing. You gulp and shy away. 

“I believe the bishop has come, your highness.” 

He doesn’t speak or move. He just watches you. His gaze bores until it burns. You fear you might have strayed somehow. 

Finally, he slides to the edge of the chair and stands. He does not seem eager as he makes slow progress towards the door. As he crosses the room, he stops, just before the door, right beside you. 

“A war for a wife,” he mutters, “a barter, I suppose.” He reaches for the metal loop on the door, “come, little maid, we might need a pillow should the lady faint again.” 

[calware]

homestuck tumblr dashboard simulator (warning: not screen-reader or light mode friendly)

corporatehsblogsbf  🔁  twittermigrant  Follow

💌 corporatehsblog

election is next week. you all know what to do *chainsaw revving*

🏖️ twittermigrant  Follow

what does this mean this is so ominous.... ?

😎 corporatehsblogsbf

containment breach. i repeat: we have a containment breach

Based on your likes!

coolartistmutual

daily jade doodle #473 :)

#jade harley #jade #homestuck #digital art

sburbanypercent  🔁  sorryforhsposting  Follow

🎃 unabletoexitabode  Follow

I’ve “captchalogued” a box of silver sharpies and “allocated” a bottle of alcohol to my specibus. Is this anything

#its nothing

t3r3z1owns  🔁  s-descendmp3  Follow

🪲 734thdavekinnie  Follow

thank you alpha dave strider for being the worlds first transmasc absentee father

#sure i'll reblog that

Because you follow #dirk strider

guyyoureabouttoblock  Follow

[untagged s/h vent art]

#dirk strider #hs

based---mutual  🔁  based---mutual

🌎 based---mutual

would anyone be interested in my gender headcanons

🌎 based---mutual

too late i've already decided for you

Read More

#i know i sound insane but HEAR ME OUT...

roselalonde02  🔁  everyonein-theoven  Follow

🎆 500iqmetaposter1025

anyways here’s my analysis on how the dichotomy between the prospit kid family and the dersite kid family acts as a foil for the dichotomy between the pexies and megidos

Read More

#OP YOUR MINDDD

In your orbit!

💽 thatoneguy

im so infuriated by the rampant impersonation on this website. i am the only dave strider there is. anyone else claiming to be me i consider to be low level identity theft, disrespectful and offensive.

#stop it.

sh8s-a-pir8

oh hey jade hate anon. we thought you were dead

[whumpofalltime]

friends, enemies, lurkers, we've made it to the

Whump Of All Time Finals!

What's the whumpiest whump of all time? Help us decide!

Find links and propaganda under the cut. Quarterfinalist and later match-ups are untagged, so your votes and reblogs matter! Make sure you click through to the main blog to find the run-off poll to crown third place, as well!

ROTK:

(spider attack, rescue)

"The Lord of The Rings, when Frodo gets bitten by a giant spider and left for dead by Sam at the end of The Two Towers, and then when Sam finds him in The Return of the King being held prisoner and whipped by an orc."

The Young Blood Chronicles (Save Rock and Roll's music videos, Fall Out Boy):

(link)

"Everyone gets bloodied, bruised, beaten up, tortured, rescued, limbs are amputated - it's brutal. Alone Together is particularly strong."

sorry for being late, but you want YBC propaganda? then you're getting YBC propaganda. I know you're a FOB fan, but I will be writing this for the benefit of those who don't know what YBC is, for better propaganda purposes! and yeah this is gonna be LONG. sorry.

So! The Youngblood Chronicles (shortened to YBC) is a series of 11 music videos made by the band Fall Out Boy, for their album Save Rock And Roll (you know this album, it's the one with My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark on it). The whole thing is quite short, less than fifty minutes long (even shorter if you don't count the uncut version's credits!!), and every single music video has some element of whump in it. This propaganda is gonna break down each individual music vid, and at i'll also talk a little bit about the irl context the album was written in, and why even THAT can be a little bit whumpy if you're insane like me!

(note: i'm going in the original release order over the uncut order, hence why i'm starting with MSKWYDITD instead of The Phoenix)

My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark: Arguably the least whump-y out of all of them, but man, seeing all of Fall Out Boy's discography and memorabilia be burnt while people are dancing around the destruction? Man, when you know the real life stuff (the reception the band had in 2009, leading to them to take a three year hiatus)... and at the end, you see four guys bound in the back of a van!! And that van is getting burnt!! Burn everything you love and burn the... ashes.

The Phoenix: NOW here's the first of MANY whump tastes you'll get. Patrick Stump, the singer/cutie of the band, gets kidnapped, tied to a chair, has his hand CHOPPED OFF and mailed to his bandmate/best friend Pete Wentz, then gets tied down and utterly tortured by women who are laughing at his misery the entire time, getting prodded and stabbed by tools for... well, you'll see. By the end of the video, Pete and the other two members of FOB (Joe Trohman and Andy Hurley) have been kidnapped by these mysterious women too, with Pete specifically getting kidnapped by the blonde woman he was in bed with when Patrick's hand got delivered to him. If you enjoy cute boys getting tied down, covered in blood, and writhing around like worms while getting tortured... well you'll enjoy all of YBC but specifically you'll enjoy this!! I did :D! The war is won, before it's begun, release the doves, surrender love...

Young Volcanoes: Good news, FOB has been reunited! Bad news, by the women who dismembered Patrick! And now all the band members are tied to chairs, hooked up to IVs full of god knows what types of drugs, and blindfolded (all except Patrick). They are then forced to drink, snort hard drugs, and are force fed Patrick's organs! Yep, all four of them are forced to eat their lead singer's guts, and are so fucking drugged up they don't even realize what's happening (and now you know what the women were doing to him in the last mv, and you even get a nice little shot of the hack job of stitching him back up)!! Patrick hallucinates everyone having fun, but of course, at the end, all of them are knocked out because of the drugs. Americana, exotica, do you wanna feel a little beautiful baby?

Alone Together: This is the song the OG propaganda mentioned, and for good reason. All four of them are shipped off into little personalized torture rooms, and, well, tortured! Pete is able to break out and even steals the hook from the girl who was torturing him, but little does he know that'll be his own undoing... also, in general, this song has some whumpy elements, specifically the line "my heart is like a stallion/they love it more when it's broke-in"... but notice how easy it is to hear "broke-in" as "broken"! At the end of the video, Pete is at least able to find Patrick (Joe and Andy have NOT been having a good time, either!! But sadly, they aren't found by Pete, but Pete DOES find Big Sean), and is even able to attach the hook to the stump (ha!) where his hand used to be. But something is clearly wrong with Patrick now. His eyes are yellow, and as the song ends, we hold on him, sneering and twitching. This is the road to ruin - and we're started at the end...

The Mighty Fall: First off if you say this is the worst song off of SRAR I will hunt you for sport. OKAY ANYWAYS, chronologically this comes after MSKWYDITD, and yeah, the four guys are the members of FOB. Pete is able to free himself with Patrick's new hook hand, and is able to get the other three out while Pete is hacking up a lung from the fire they just barely escaped. But they're not done getting their shit rocked yet. A gang of children show up (the leader being the kid Patrick waved at right before he was kidnapped back in the Phoenix MV), and proceed to separate them and beat the living shit out of them. The leader kid who's chasing Patrick plays something on a boombox... which triggers Patrick to go yellow-eyed again (from here on out i'll call it "going Youngblood" or "Youngblood self"). It was confirmed in the commentary track that ANY music would cause him to go Youngblood. And knowing Patrick IRL fucking loves to create/compose music... yeah! Take something he loves and turn it into something that drives him insane!! I'm normal!! And also the irl parallel you could draw to his solo career doing the same thing to him (on a less uh Dramatic level but you know)!!! Ouch!!!! Big Sean is able to save Patrick, but at the cost of his own life (and a killer rap verse... HELL YEAH I'M A DICK GIRL, ADDICTED TO YOU). Oh, how the mighty fall in love...

Just One Yesterday: The last vestiges of comfort you're gonna get for a WHILE. The four are separated, getting even more beaten up, Pete vomits up a snake, Andy gets his shit rocked by a homeless guy, Joe has to use white sheets as a makeshift tourniquet bc his leg got fucked up in The Mighty Fall MV, and Patrick is picked up by a kind stranger (hi Foxes! you have a very pretty voice! PLEASE KEEP YOUR HANDS ON THE STEERING WHEEL!). And finally, finally we get a hope spot. Fall Out Boy is reunited (the part where Andy just grabs onto Patrick's arm, in disbelief they're both alive... augh!!! AUGH!!!!), and for a moment, it seems they've been delivered to a hospital... before Foxes' eyes go completely black, looking at Patrick... and turns on the radio. She's able to trigger the Youngblood. And now Patrick is gone. The other three scramble into the hospital, Patrick not far behind, determined to kill them to stop the noise in his head. If Heaven's grief brings Hell's reign, then I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday...

Where Did The Party Go: Patrick, now fully consumed by the Youngblood brainwashing, is now stalking his bandmates in a hospital. Patrick is seeing visions of the hospital as an abandoned party, Andy has to painfully disinfect the wounds he's gotten, Pete is able to call for the police, and Joe... oh, poor Joe. He barricades himself into a room, but not well enough. Patrick finds him, and kills him, slitting his throat with the hook hand, showing no remorse at all... until Andy and Pete find them. The Youngblood wears off, and Patrick looks to what he's done, and is horrified at what he's done to his friend. And, bad news for him, the police are here, ready to arrest the murderer. All Andy and Pete can do is watch as tears roll down Patrick's eyes. And for the extra IRL context, this was the first song written for the album that made Pete and Patrick realize they had to get FOB back together... so lets match that with a music video where the member who helped get the band together in the first place dies. By the hands of the kid he found. Let's fade away together, one dream at a time...

Death Valley: Joe gets... uh, a little comfort? I mean, he thinks he's getting sent to heaven but goes to hell, buuuuut I think doing drugs in rock and roll hell with Tommy Lee is actually a pretty sweet deal, better than the deal the other three got! Pete and Andy are being interrogated while Patrick is in a jail cell. We find out that the cult that kidnapped them, Silence the Noise, is lead by Pete's girlfriend from WAAAAY back in the Phoenix MV, Courtney Love. And at the end of the MV... Patrick is bailed out of jail by Silence the Noise. They have him again. And this time, they're not gonna let him walk out until he's fully under their control. 'Cause tonight it's just fire alarms and losing you...

Rat a Tat: Silence the Noise has Patrick, and they utterly brainwash him, A Clockwork Orange style, with electroshock stimulation to keep him from looking away or closing his eyes, until there is nothing left. Patrick Stump does not exist anymore. Only the Youngblood, pliant under the control of Silence the Noise, tasked to destroy what he once loved; music. Andy dies at the hands of the cult, and now Pete has to protect a briefcase, the thing that got them into this mess, and keep it away from Silence the Noise, all while his best friend hunts him down. Are you ready for another bad poem?

Miss Missing You: THE WHUMPIEST OF THE WHUMP. What if we were best friends but you've been driven insane and I know the only way to stop you is to kill you and it was my fault you got into this mess and I was the one who gave you the weapon that will be my own undoing. What if we both died at the same time. What if we died, both of us failing the mission we had before us. What if that was a reference to one of their first music videos. What if this song was originally written for Patrick's solo album but he realized it was more of a Fall Out Boy song so it was scrapped until now. What if there's a legit argument to be made that half the lyrics for this song was written by Patrick. What if we were both boys. Grips walls, yeha i'm normal. If you don't watch ANY other music vid, watch Miss Missing You. Sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger. The person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger.

Save Rock And Roll: And our final track gives us a final bit of comfort. Patrick is able to overcome the Youngblood, and gets into heaven, where all of FOB is finally, finally reunited. God (aka Elton John) gives them new instruments and brings them back to earth, so they can do what they love; play music together. Which just so happens to release people from the control of Silence the Noise! But, because we can't have nice things, a cult within Silence the Noise got a hold of the briefcase, and summoned a spirit that starts to kill everyone. FOB stands together, and blasts the evil spirit, the blood coming up to the gates of heaven and covering Elton John in it. And... that's how it ends. No true resolution. Just Elton John covered in blood, as the song fades out. Oh, no! Wherever I go, go! Trouble seems to follow! I only plugged in to save rock and roll!

UH. AGAIN I APOLOGIZE FOR THE LENGTH. but i really wanted to express just how much WHUMP they manage to fit into less than fifty minutes, all backed by an amazing album colored by the three years they were apart. colored by how they grew, colored by how bad the hiatus was for Patrick specifically, colored by how Confessions of a Pariah got Pete to reach out to help him, and this album came out of it, Fall Out Boy came back out of it, and now here we are, ten years later, with the title track being performed every night for their concert, with all the band singing the final lines together, and the line you are what you love, not who loves you hitting every single night.

SORRY. LISTEN TO FALL OUT BOY. thanks for letting me rant.

[airbendertendou]

BLUE BOY! ♡

synopsis : [name] meets someone a little… captivating while waiting for a friend from housen. kantou!mikey in mind.

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

The streets of Shibuya welcome you jubilantly. You browse store’s windows with pursed lips, remembering what caught your eye and what you think others would like. With a vibrated chime, your phone beckons for your attention, drawing it away from the necklace you’re looking at.

yuken !!

omw

see u there shortly

Scrunching your nose in excitement, you grin and send a simple heart back. He’ll know what it means — will know how happy you are to see him. Humming happily, you continue your small stroll, keeping an eye out for blond hair or the store you’re meant to meet at — whichever comes first.

A crash interrupts your quiet afternoon. You ignore it, only watching from the corner of your eye as a tattooed boy runs past ; he’s followed by a few others. You shrug, deciding to mind your business and keep your eye out for your close friend.

As you turn, a flash of shoulder length blond hair catches your attention. With a grin, you race after him and tap on his shoulder excitedly. “Didn’t think you’d sneak pas— huh?”

Except, the guy turning around is not Odajima Yuken.

Soulless, enticing black eyes meet yours. He raises an eyebrow — you jerk your hand away from his shoulder, his touch suddenly burning you. It feels like you’re the only two ; like an entire city has disappeared and left you in the rubble.

Gulping, you try to reign in your shocked expression, composing yourself clumsily. “Sorry, I—“

“You know this person, boss?” Someone new stands to his right. Black hair is styled in a sort-of-mohawk way, red lining his eyes until it’s pointed into a wing. He looks you over, lips curving as he does. “Not bad…”

Blackened eyes still haven’t left your figure. “I don’t.”

“I thought you were someone else,” you speak quickly. Your palms feel sweaty ; itchy with the stares piercing into you. You want nothing more than to get away from this situation ; to get away from the blond in front of you. “I’m so sorry. I’ll leave now.”

The call of your name stops you, freezes you in place. Yuken strolls up casually, his hands in his pockets. He eyes your company, “making friends?”

“Ah.” The dark haired boy speaks. He goes from the stranger to Yuken and back again. “Makes sense. They do look alike.”

Your eyes find his once more and you freeze again before looking away. “Again, I’m really sorry.”

Turning quickly, you wrap a trembling hand around the inside of Yuken’s elbow, halfway dragging him away. Get out of this situation ; get away from them. You let out a small breath of relief — you can still feel his eyes on you.

Your name is called again, quieter this time.

Kokonoi hums, looking at his boss in question. “Something up?”

Mikey doesn’t answer, simply stares after you. As you look back one last time, you can’t figure out the tingling you feel. Can’t understand why the stranger behind you emits such an odd response from you.

The right side of his mouth tilts up as you flinch and look away. “Cute.”

——♡——

sorry for all the tr spam it’s all ive been thinking abt recently 💔

if youd like to b tagged / untagged in any tokyo revengers content, let me know! ♡ [no hnl tags bc it’s not mentioned much!!]

🍓FOREVER TAGS : @star2fishmeg ♥︎

🍓 TOKYOREV TAGLIST : @thatpoindexterpixy @night-shadowblood-writes2 @muichirouswifeandhusband @chrofeisnightmaregf

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[joshlmbrt]

NOW PLAYING;

BAD IDEA RIGHT? - g. tillman thought

‘YES I KNOW THAT HE’S MY EX, BUT CAN’T TWO PEOPLE RECONNECT?’

w; ex’s that are still in love but choose to avoid it, ambiguous ending, oh - gator (although oc), this one moves kind of fast, i apologize

an; happy day two hehe. hope u all enjoyed the first one!

-> VALENTINES PLAYLIST HERE

Your eyes roll at the sight - Gator smirks when he notices.

He stands, hand patting the girls shoulder he was speaking to, walking past you. His pinky grazes yours. You could recognize that strong cologne anywhere.

“He’s so annoyin’,” Marie grumbles, eyes trailing over him. “I’m glad you two broke up.”

Your eyes trail over him, tilting your head to the side. “Yeah.” You say. You’re not really paying attention, not when he looks back and stares at you, smoke bellowing out of his mouth and out to his side - your brain melts along with everything else in the background.

Cutting the night short and deciding to go home - before you told Marie something you’d regret - your shedding out of your coat, letting out a loud sigh.

Flinching at the sound of someone knocking at your door, you turn and lift a brow. You peek out the window, mumbling something to yourself, unlocking the door and swinging it open.

“What do you want, Till-” You let out a noise when his mouth cut off your words, his hand holding the back of your head. Your own hands reach out, slamming the door shut before letting them land on his jaw.

Lifting on your toes a tad, he pulls away, rough pants fanning over your face. “Sorry… I know this isn’t the greatest idea ever, but-”

“It fine,” You cut him off quickly. “Just shut up and kiss me.” You surge forward, connecting your lips again.

You probably should not do this.

But whatever.

It’s fine.

You both just tripped and happened to end up kissing… Right?

💌 gator tags; @officerrrfriendly, @keerygal, @halflifejess, @whisperingwillowxox, @aliensufo, @kassy-munson, @marrowfrog00

💌 some moots - message me to be untagged!; @southerngothicchic, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @stevesxyellowxsweater, @yourfavoritewitchbitch, @starksbabie, @bimbobaggins69, @thecreelhouse

thank you for reading! comments, reblogs, requests, likes, & feedback is encouraged, welcomed, & deeply appreciated! 🧸

[miutonium]

Saw @mango-mya 's si/oc inspo post (lmk if you want to be untagged its ok!!) and decided to make a seperate post instead since I'm going to ramble about Chloe and I dont want to clog the main post with my infos (anyway the post is here if anyone wants to reblog with their char's oc inspo :3)

Here's some inspo for my s/i oc Chloe! I don't really have a lot of inspo as oppose to others but I do have a bit detail about it and ahshskaja I think it's fun for me to pick on so the rambles undercut! (Like, im not kidding all my points are everywhere hsksksk)

When I was making an early concept for Chloe, I used Ima (Sedusa) as my early reference for her design. There's a lot of unique body figure of woman in PPG but I am mostly attracted to Sedusa's frame and I cannot stress enough that I love love LOVE her design! Her design is the exact opposite of Utonium (curvy and circle as opposing to Utonium's rectangular and sharp edges) so like I wanted her design to be the opposite of him. I love the idea of opposite attracts and I refered to this idea a lot when I build her character. More on that in just a bit.

When I created her, I was working as a service crew/waitress and I wished it theres something that could swoop me from my boring job so I thinkered with the idea that she found love at the dinky diner she worked at. So one day, I discovered Suzanne Vega's Tom's Diner and I loved this song! What's so interesting to me about this song is that it's an acapella so like I'm able to focus on the lyrics and it basically captured the essence of what I want Utonium and Chloe to be except Chloe would be the one greeting him every morning and give him hello kissies and hhh thats basically the catalyst for their story.

For most of her inspo, mainly personality and clothes, I refer a lot to The Nanny's Fran Fine. I grew up watching The Nanny and I always love how her character is someone that's street smart, extroverted, cares about others and charismatic at times so I based Chloe's personality off this. I also refer to Fran's outfits a lot whenever I draw Chloe in other clothing so if you take a hard look at any of my previous art you may recognize some of her clothes that I used as reference.

For Chloe's hair, I want a distinctive short hair for her and P3's Yukari Takeba was my first choice for a cute short hair cut. I love how her bangs just swoops to her sides and the end of her hair just curls outwards its just so cute to me. I added the heart curl design on her bangs because I really want her hair to be the main focus for her design so that when she wears any other clothes, her hair will remain the same and recognizeable. The heart curls that sticks out of her hair was added veryvmuch later during design process and it almost didn't make it. I'm so glad I keep it, I think people mostly recognize her heart cowlick the most.

While I did say Fran Fine is my main inspo, I did have Bojack's Pickles as another of my personality inspo. She's bubbly, energetic and sometimes ditzy and I never mentioned this but Chloe's a bit ditzy and has a valley girl accent. I have not think of a voice claim yet but the voice that I think that would fit Chloe rn is ATSV's Lyla. There's a significant age gap between Utonium and Chloe and I really want to show how both of them came from different generation (Utonium's a boomer while Chloe's more of Gen X so I want to play around their understanding of trends and how they act with their age accodingly hhh)

Overall, what I want to achieve for Chloe's personality and appearance is someone that would compliment Utonium's personality and appearance in the opposite way because like I said, I love the idea of opposite attracts. Where she lacks education, she makes them up for her communication skills. Where Utonium is big on being a book smart person, she is street smart, she knows how to handle things by her way.

I have no intention to make Chloe have a cool career like Utonium because I still want her to be normal. I always make elaborated backgrounds and jobs for my other s/i ocs so for Chloe, I want to relax, I want her to be normal, have a normal job, nothing interesting. I don't want to rely heavily on those points but instead focus more on building her personality.

When I think about it now, I think its good thag I make Chloe normal. She is really the normality that Prof and the girls needed in their family. She doesn't have any special skills, any benefits directly to them nor any interesting history that makes her unique, she's just some woman that just walks into their life yet unintentionally becomes someone significant to the family's life.

[lobautumny]

Alright, this toy has decided to make a big, singular post detailing the entire Predstrogen situation to the best of its ability because it hasn't seen one that's up to date and wants to have something convenient to link to bring people up to speed. Apologies if there are mistakes in this explanation. It is difficult to round all of the information up concisely.

So, the first thing to mention, up-front, is that this all centers around a trans woman named Rita. This toy will primarily be referring to her by name, as this centers around several blogs and a Twitter account that all belong to her and have different handles.

So what the hell happened to Rita?

Well, after losing a couple of blogs (the first due to doing sex work on a side-blog and the second due to a harassment campaign from lolcow forums), she formed the Predstrogen blog, which stuck around for a while and became quite popular. However, the harassment campaign never ended.

Rita's posts on the Predstrogen blog received masses of false reports for untagged NSFW (or outright ToS-breaking) content while she and people who followed her or incidentally reblogged her posts were flooded with hate and misinformation about her. Rita tried to get into contact with Tumblr support over this harassment campaign and received nothing. Rita also contacted Tumblr support to ask about some images that she was unsure whether they fell within community guideline compliance or not, and was directly told that she was fine to post them.

Eventually, completely-SFW images (such as a transition timeline that was just two pictures of her face) on her blog started getting taken down because of the false reports. Rita reaches out to Tumblr again, this time to try to get the images back, and starts spreading the word about how fucked up this situation is and how the site's staff have been either incompetent or actively malicious towards her by allowing this organized hate campaign to go completely unchecked. As this starts blowing up, the Predstrogen blog gets banned for community guideline violations that never happened over alleged adult content.

Support finally gets back to her about the harassment campaign she'd been the victim of, and said that they found nothing that breaks Tumblr ToS so even if they wanted to do something, they simply couldn't. Put a pin in that.

So, she makes another blog, this one named Avewy. She starts doubling down posting about everything that's happened to her so far, and her harassers keep sending misinformation about why Rita was banned in bystanders' asks, abusing the fact that they aren't able to check the Predstrogen blog anymore to control the narrative about her. Eventually, when asked why Rita was banned, Matt (Tumblr's CEO) responds, giving the reasoning that it was for harassment (which she never did) and threats of violence against Tumblr staff.

Now, let's talk about that last point. What might he be referring to? Well, luckily for us, he cites one (1) piece of evidence! Several months ago (at least, this toy's pretty sure it was several months ago, the screenshot does not have a timestamp), Rita made a post on the Predstrogen blog in which she said, "I hope photomatt dies forever a painful death involving a car covered in hammers that explodes more than a few times and hammers go flying everywhere." That's it. Matt threatened to "work with police and FBI" over her wishing he succumbs to a Looney Tunes-ass fate. If she made any other more serious threats, Matt has never specified any of them, and it's impossible to go through her blog to check, so we have to assume that this is the only such instance.

Also, we know the whole "Predstrogen was banned for harassment" claim was a blatant lie, by the way, because the specific way Predstrogen was banned (all images from her posts were scrubbed from the site) is something that only happens for adult content violations.

Naturally, the Avewy blog also gets banned. There's no official reason given for that one, but we don't really need one at this point. After this, Rita simply makes yet another blog (by the name of Cyprederone), makes a goodbye post giving her final thoughts about Tumblr and everything that's happened to her, and linking all of her other social media accounts and her Discord server. So this is where the story ends, right? Like, surely, her finally being pushed off the platform for good is the last thing that happens in this series of events, right?

Right?

Matt, the very reasonable and level-headed man that he is, stalks Rita's Twitter account and starts harassing her there, and breaks data protection laws (according to Maia Arson Crimew, at least, and this toy will take its word on that) by listing off all of the usernames to her private alt accounts as some kind of gotcha when she reposted her transition timeline on that site and called it "too hot for Tumblr." He must've either realized or been quickly informed by his legal team that that post was probably illegal, because he quickly deleted it.

And that's approximately where we are right now. Once again, this toy might be getting some details wrong (it's mostly worried that some events are in the wrong order), and it apologizes if it does. Once again, unfortunately, it's hard to iron out the exact sequence of events when the blogs that Rita was documenting the sequence of events on have been deleted, and the whole situation was very hectic so it was difficult to internalize an exact timeline while everything was actually going down.

Some extra things to note:

Matt, in his response to Rita, refused to refer to her with she/her pronouns. Instead, he mostly referred to her as "they," and eventually edited his post to dehumanize her to "the account" because he was "unaware of pronoun preference and [didn't] want to misgender anyone." This is an interesting claim, considering he certainly had no trouble tracking down Rita's Twitter account, which has her pronouns in the bio, to harass her. At one point, Matt straight up referred to her as "it."

It's very telling that Matt made a big statement about how he now understands what targeted harassment feels like and will be looking into better moderation because of his experiences being harassed immediately after his staff denied that a trans woman who has been subject to a targeted harassment campaign for years was actually being harassed.

Rita's harassers made a point of it to especially target transmasc users with misinformation as a form of recruitment tactic.

This is far from the first instance of Tumblr's staff/moderation being discriminatory against trans people, nor is it the first time that bigots have gotten the auto-mod to ban a minority by mass-reporting their account. It's simply the instance of this happening that has generated the most attention.

The harassment Rita was receiving was painstakingly documented and literally included TERF accounts admitting to harassing her and organizing mass false reports. Despite simply lacking the resources to determine that users who were bragging about breaking ToS were, in fact, breaking ToS, staff have certainly been able to be very proactive in tracking down and punishing users who are a little bit too mean to Matt lately.

Despite Matt claiming that Rita was banned for her horrible, vile, evil, totally-not-a-joke death threat and talking about how serious these kinds of things are and how you simply cannot say them, this toy sees much more serious death threats and people earnestly telling each other to kill themselves on this website on a very frequent basis, and they always go completely unpunished, and it's certain that's not for a lack of reports.

If anyone has anything to add on or correct, this toy actively encourages you to do so.

[klainepornytourney]

Hi!

What the hell is going on here, you ask?

Simply put, we’re here for the fuck of it. That is to say, for the fun of our boys and their, er, polls. 😏

We want to show our love for all the smuttiest, most glorious, gratuitous fics that have entertained us since Kurt and Blaine first touched…lips. Fingertips? Let’s be real, soon as their eyes met, the eye fucking swiftly evolved into, well, fucking in the brains of fans around the globe. So, here we are!

The fic tournament will start late February, and run until we're all out of polls. In the mean time, we'll be posting a few fun polls per week about Kurt and Blaine, and their sex lives, so get your headcanons ready and start voting!

While we are supportive of all the ways Kurt and Blaine are DTF, we (unfortunately) DNF with certain kinks and tropes which you might notice the absence of in our posts/polls/tournaments.

You'll find the hows, whats and whatnots under the cut, along with the links to poll masterposts, and if your question isn't answered there, please send us an ask and we'll get back to you!

Which fics will qualify? Any completed E rated Klaine fic posted on ao3 between 2010 and 2023, that is under 10k words and written in English. (Sorry longer fics, you usually have too much plot between all the porny bits and we don't have time to read you all.)

How will the tournament run? We're still working out the exact details of it, so this answer will be updated with more info soon!

How will we keep things fun for everyone? If you want to be excluded, send us an ask and we'll take you off the list, no questions asked. We'll only be naming the fic titles and including fic links in our posts, so there won't be any blogs tagged or ao3 accounts linked. The different kinks and tropes categories will have their own tags so you can filter out anything you don't want to see, while still getting the rest of the polls. We'll provide you with a full list of categories and tags when we've finalized the tournament design.

What will we NOT include? Anything nobody in our group is willing to read. Currently, that list includes mpreg, bestiality, dub/noncon, b!p, adult/minor relationships (unless the 'adult' is 18/19), cheating, incest, watersports/scat, Karofsky, slavery, A/B/O, or fics where they're younger than 15.

We're aware that this may mean some of your fav fics won't be included, but we can only include fics that at least one of us will read due to the selection process.

How do we select fics? Scrolling. So much scrolling. We made lists of all the fics that meet the basic requirements, and then divided them up and started skimming them (okay fine, we ended up reading most of them) to be sure there were no hidden untagged triggers or unhappy endings. Fic quality or popularity was not a factor.

Are there any fics that will be polled differently from the rest? Yes! Some authors have been so particularly prolific, that there's just too much smutty goodness to choose from. Instead, they will have their own categories to narrow the options down before the winners join the general tournament. Again, if you're one of them and don't want to be included, let us know!

If there are a lot of fics in one category, then we'll seed (pun intended) some fics to the next rounds based on publish date.

Will it only be Klaine fics? Of course! They might have some (male) friends along for the ride, or a spectator or three, but they will always both be there, either in person or digitally.

How do I decide which fic to vote for? That's completely up to you! You can vote because you like the author, because it got your motor running, or just because the other one sucked in a not so fun way. Be as subjective or objective as you want, it's porn after all and my kink may not be yours! ;)

Are there any rules for reblogging or commenting on tournament polls? We ask that you don't name any authors or link to their blogs unless you have explicit permission from them. If you come across a fic or a kink you don't like, just filter it out and move on. This tournament is supposed to be fun and we will not tolerate any (kink) shaming or bullying.

As cliché as it sounds, everyone is a winner here. We chose the tournament style for this blog because polls are fun and we like to click things, but the real goal is to celebrate ALL the smut we as a fandom have been so lucky to receive.

Will you reveal yourselves? Nope.

We hope everyone will have just as much fun reading and voting as we had setting this up!

xoxo The KlainePornyTourney mods

Links to various masterposts:

Threesome Mini Tourney

Fuck, Marry, Kill

Non-fic polls masterlist

[christinesficrecs]

https://at.tumblr.com/fairytales-and-folklore/702836305045962752/91kmcytyo2me

Just saw that reblog. Now i HAVE to ask. Any recs come to mind?

Thank you @mtlyfe for making sure I see the important posts! ❤️ 

Lap Magnet by Prairie_Grass | 30.7K | Explicit

Five times Derek and Stiles didn’t notice how close they were (literally) and then a whole bunch of times when they did...

Hales Have People For That by LadyDrace | 4.5K | Mature

Some moron decides to capture the Hale pack. Big mistake. Really big.

I Love To Be The Underdog by CaptainnAustralia | 33.5K | Explicit

Five times Stiles got into an argument on Derek's behalf, and the one time he didn't have to.

He's Not Mine by Sunnee | 68.5K | Explicit

Derek comes home to find an abandoned werebaby on his front porch and Stiles volunteers to help him out. Surprisingly, that is just the beginning of his problems.

a lion among them by unpossible | 61.9K | Mature

He knew he’d handled it badly.

Not like he knew any other way to handle this kind of thing, Derek thought, only a little bitter.

But Derek had heard the word Emissary come out of Scott’s mouth, and had immediately vetoed it with extreme prejudice.

It was like he wanted Scott to set his jaw and ignore Derek’s input. Honestly.

But Stiles- Derek had thought that at the very least, Stiles would listen. That their relationship meant enough that Stiles would hear him out before deciding.

Derek had thought wrong.

Stiles plans are the worst (the best) by Dashar | 88.7K

Stiles world ended when his pack died. It didn’t exactly come as a surprise. He had been running with wolves for so long that within hunters and monsters it was just a matter of time. It was a surprise when the world ended too. And Stiles… Well, he had to do something about that.

stuck in reverse by crazyassmurdererwall (smartalli) | 65.6K | Explicit

Look, Derek is the worst. Everyone knows that. Their fearless leader is a total and complete failwolf.

Which means the rest of them? Are kind of the worst too. They’re a ramshackle, slap dashed, sorry excuse for a pack that’s about a half second away from getting one of them killed. And this is a problem, because Stiles would really like to survive high school. Thanks.

Still, nobody deserves what Derek has gone through. Nobody.

And it’s about time somebody told him that.

Foolish devouring things, build your castle in me by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 23.1K | Explicit

“I will marry you,” he declares. “But should any more harm come to my father or my people, I will raze the earth itself until I feel the lifeblood drain from your corpse and paint my skin with it.”

It is not an idle warning, but from the princeling it has none of the desired effect. Derek feels no fear, but in this instance at least diplomacy triumphed over the spilling of more blood. It is all the same to him anyway. But Regent Peter was most insistent they avoid a drawn-out, gruelling war.

“Then we have reached an accord.”

There's Monsters at Home by calrissian18 | 83.6K | Explicit

“How did you get past the wards?” Derek had put them up, with Peter’s grudging assistance, after the Alpha pack had made themselves at home a few times too many.

The guy pulled a face. “You mean the wards a five-year-old girl with the mental ability of a goldfish could deconstruct?” He blinked wide eyes at Derek. “Gee, I don’t know. It’s bound to go down as one of life’s great mysteries.”

Derek despised him.

Pack Up; Don't Stray by the_deep_magic | 55.2K | Explicit

Werewolves are an enslaved underclass, collared and tagged by human masters. Detective Stilinski’s on duty the night they bring in an untagged stray.

A Letter From Mom by StilesIsMySpiritAnimal | 32.9K | Explicit

After waking up at the age of 11 without any memories of his past Stiles spends eight years with his father in the tiny town of Shelter Cove, California. After his father's death he receives a notice from a storage facility in some town called Beacon Hills. Stiles is confused and thinks the manager made a mistake until he finds a letter that should have been for his 18th birthday that his dad never gave him. It's from his mother, who he has no memory of. Weirdly enough, her letter mentions Beacon Hills and some woman named Talia, who he's supposed to trust. Confused and angry at his father, Stiles sets out for Beacon Hills anxious and determined to find out what his dad had been hiding from him all these years.

Go Away, Scott by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere | 66.2K

After the incident at the warehouse, Stiles is fed up with Scott. He finds himself drawn into Derek’s pack and in the process, drawn to Derek himself.

With the Alpha Pack closing in, Derek needs to learn how to trust his pack and those around him. And who better to help him than Stiles?

Northern Blues by kaistrex (weishen) | 40.6K | Explicit

When the Hale pack transitions to a new Alpha, Stiles is thrilled to be assigned to Beacon Hills to try out as their new Emissary. He and his dad are immediately enamoured with the idyllic little town, fitting right in with the rest of the Hales – except for Derek. The new Alpha shows no signs of welcome, but it will be hard for him to stay stubborn in the face of his family’s encouragement and a sentient house that has plans for the two of them whether Derek likes it or not.

[jayke0]

Kinktober is complete!

I have decided to end my Kinktober a little early, mostly because i have done a lot of the uncomping prompts already, but also to give myself some chill out time ❤️.

Thankyou to everyone that reblogged and liked my stuff, it really means the world, and I'm glad i could start my "fic writer journey" off with a bang!

I am going to take a break for a few days as i am busy for halloween and what not, then hopefully i shall be back on the bandwagon and writing more flith for you all to feast your eyes upon in no time 🙏😈.

Tagging my Kinktober tag list so that you all are aware.

Please let me know in the comments (tagged and untagged) if you'd like to be added to my normal tag list and i will gladly do so ❤️.

@cowboymarcs @sad1st1c-wh0re @poopoobuttsy @boredzillenial @mllover260 @simpforbritgents @partssoldseparately @keira-kaz2y5 @theincredibleinkspitter @l-lune @red-hydra @queerponcho @summonthesoups @motleyfolk @steven-grants-world @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @minigirl87 @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar

[the-coiner-prince]

~~ Welcome to the coiner prince's coining event !!!

The prince has seen many coiners coming up with coining events and wanted to make one kimself , since ke thought they are such a fun thing to participate . Ke can't wait to see what you coin !

Here are some things that ke wants you to consider :

If you wish to join this event please reblog this post with " joining " as the prince would like to know who is joining :D

Please @.at kim in your coining posts , and if you want you can add the #princefirstcoiningevent tag

You don't need to coin something for every single day , it is okay if you don't want or can't coin a label for any prompts , you can skip them

Even though ke will assign a prompt to each day of this event , you don't need to post exactly that day , they are suggestions , but you can coin your label whenever . If you wanna coin a label for every single prompt on the same day go ahead and do that !

If you are in the prince's dni ke asks you to not @.at kim or add the tag in your post , but you can use any of the prompts

The prince hopes you have fun and enjoy yourselves !!

So roll up everyone to see the prompts !!!

Day 01 ~~ Night [ 10th March ]

Day 02 ~~ Comfort [ 11th March ]

Day 03 ~~ Royalty [ 12th March ]

Day 04 ~~ Bright and / or neon colours [ 13th March ]

Day 05 ~~ Songs / Music [ 14th March ]

Day 06 ~~ Amusement parks [ 15th March ]

Day 07 ~~ Outfic [ 16th March ]

Day 08 ~~ Moon [ 17th March ]

Day 09 ~~ Rain [ 18th March ]

Day 10 ~~ Space / stars [ 19th March ]

The prince decided to post this announcement today so you can plan ahead and queue your coinings if you want to :D

@revenant-coining @chaoscoining @engagekiss @cocajimmycola @sugarychime @lovesick-mogai the prince is kindly inviting you to participate , or just reblog this post for it to reach more coiners ;) /nf [ if any of you would like to be untagged just let me know ;) ]

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 16

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Hi.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Mr. Laufeyson leaves you to wash up the porcelain. You sigh in relief at having space to breathe. You can't decide if he's testing you. You suspect this might be him keeping an eye on you, just as he had before. Still waiting for you to mess up irrevocably. 

Thursdays entail a tidy of the second floor. With the carpenter in and the unexpected distraction, your schedule is delayed. You begin your canvas of the upper floor, dragging broom and vacuum along as you go through every room.

You stop before the study and knock. There's no answer. You try again and rap on the wood. Again, nothing. You enter and find it empty.

You wipe down the surfaces, dusting and shaking out the curtains before you run over the carpet and drapes with the vacuum hose. You proceed into the library but there isn't much to do there. You stop as you find your bag waiting in the chair behind the writing desk. You can't recall bringing it up but you must have.

You finish up and ease the door shut as you return to the hall. You hear a low drone, only realising it's a voice as you open the half-bath on the other side. You try not to overhear as Laufeyson's words grow clearer the closer you get. You hide in the bathroom, collecting the towels to replace. You put then in the hall and go down to the linen closet.

"Yes, tomorrow," his insistence pierces through, "I know, I know, we will talk. I... I'm sorry for all that."

He's quiet and you take that as your cue to retreat. You shouldn't be listening. You hang the fresh towels and gather the used ones to take down to the laundry room. As you come back up, Mr. Laufeyson emerges from his room, no jacket over his pressed button-up, as he rolls his sleeves to his elbows. His eyes flit up as you tiptoe along the hall and he nods as you pass.

"Have you gotten to the study?" He asks.

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson."

"Great, I will require privacy," he states.

"Mr. Laufeyson," you take the broom from against the wall and roll the vacuum towards his room, you pause before you can get there. 

There's a click in his throat as his gaze shrouds you, "don't worry, you will have no unseemly scenes from me, today."

The allusion to your unfortunate foray under the bed sets your cheeks alight. You wince and reach for the handle, biting down on your tongue. You push through slowly and set the broom inside. As you turn back, he remains just outside his study.

"A joke," he assures as he presses the door inward, "or an attempt."

He shrugs and disappears. You suck in your cheeks and think. Is he being nice or is he mocking you? You wish he would go back to be the stoic, strict man with the cold words. You're used to spite and while you long for warmth, you're comforted by the familiar.

Too much thinking, you rebuke yourself. Just get on with it.

🧹

Just after noon, you decide to take your break early. You usually wait until at least one but moving and bending and sweeping has left you lightheaded.

You go downstairs and refill your water bottle. You find your way to patio, the sunlight forming rings in your vision. You see the untouched pitcher, the ice melted and the water no doubt warm.

You leave your bottle and take the pitcher. You refresh it and come back out to footfalls on the steps. You look up as Ronan climbs onto the patio, a sheen of sweat across his face and arms, dampening the chest of his shirt and the edges of his sleeves. You smile as you set down the cold water.

"Just topping up," you say.

"Great timing," he sets down the lunch bag in his left hand, resting his other on the back of an iron chair, "do you mind?"

"Uh, no," you look at your water bottle, "actually, I could just go inside--"

"Wouldn't mind the company," he pulls out the chair and sits, "solitary work, I was chatting with the birds."

"Oh," your cheeks pinch.

He laughs at himself, "not really but I was tempted."

He tugs back the zipper and flips up the top of the bag. You lower yourself into a chair and play with the cap of the water bottle. You flip the nozzle up and down, watching the sparrows chirping wildly in the vines.

"Nice day," he remarks, "glad I get to work in the shade though."

"Hm, yeah, it must be nice to work outside," you agree and turn the water bottle nervously. You don't want to be rude and run off but you were looking forward to a quiet moment alone.

He pours himself a glass of water as you chew your lip. You stare off at the green expanse and lean your elbows on the table, still clutching the bottle tightly. As the silence settles, a rumble erupts from your stomach, squeezing your insides painfully. You look down meekly and lean back, drawing your arms back to fold your hands in your lap. You hope he didn't hear it too.

"You know," he says as he rustles a wrapper, "I've been known to pack too much." He takes half the sandwich and slides the other towards you, "wanna help me out?"

"Oh, no, I couldn't--" your stomach roars as if trying to drown you out.

"Really, I can't eat it all myself. Working out in the sun, I'll make myself sick."

"I'm okay, that's really nice of you--"

"I'd hate for it to go to waste," he insists, "you don't like ham and cheese?"

"No, I-- I don't mind it but..." you rub your arm, once more pressing on the bruise hidden under your sleeve, "that's... lovely, thank you."

You sit forward, not wanting to argue. Besides, you are starving. Your head is starting to pound and your stomach is knotting around itself. You accept the sandwich and carefully lift it up, nibbling on the corner.

"I brought some nuts, you think that chipmunk would like some?" He muses.

You can't help but smile, "probably."

"He doesn't really like me. I don't think I've ever heard one of those things growl before," he reaches in the bag and takes out a small container, "maybe you could try."

"Oh, uh..." you blink down at the plastic, "I guess... I mostly work inside."

"Ah, yes, it is a very nice house," he comments as he peers over at the brick, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stares then squares his shoulders and refocuses on you, "and your boss... he keeps you inside?"

"Well, no, I uh, I just... have stuff to do," you take another small bite.

"Mmm," he hums, "he keeps you busy."

You nod and shrug. The work can't be as hard as his. You don't think you could aim a hammer.

"Don't worry, I know his type. Up in their castles, they hate to brush shoulders with anyone outside their court," he scoffs, "you're a strong woman for putting up with it."

"I... he isn't...I'm not..." you don't know what to say without flat-out lying. Mr. Laufeyson might not be very amiable but he is still your boss. "It's just a job."

His eyes drift against and his thick brows twitch. He slowly raises the sandwich and takes and bite, the tension slowly leaving his posture. You glance back as a trickle runs down your spine. 

You peek up to where his eyes had lingered. The curtains seem to flutter but it's too far away to tell for sure. You face the table again and gulp down the layers of bread, lettuce, and meat.

Ronan isn't so bad. It'll be nice to have someone else around for a while. Especially, someone who doesn't reprimand your every breath.

🧹

The end of the day nears and you look over your list. You've caught up on a few things planned for tomorrow even. You want to be able to catch up after whatever Mr. Laufeyson has planned. He'll be expecting as much.

You'll stay until Ronan is done for the day but in the meantime, you have a few last hanging threads to tie off. You go to the door to the study and knock. Almost as soon as your knuckles tap, a response sounds, “come in.”

You obey and twist the handle. Mr. Laufeyson sits and examines what appears to be a scroll, diligently polishing the brass ends with a cloth.  You don't question him, you know better than that. Even so, you are curious.

“Um, Mr. Laufeyson, there are few notes I got from the carpenter–”

“Ah,” his brows rise as his eyes flick towards you. His hand stills as he keeps a slight bend in his neck, “Roman, was it?”

“Ronan, I think, uh,” you hover around the other side of his desk, “he has a few suggestions here. If you'd like to review–”

“Suggestions?” He tilts his head.

You take the prompt and look at the page, “um, okay, he recommends replacing the whole floor of the gazebo as the wood is rotting around the broken pieces and the moss has compromised the integrity.”

“Do it,” he sighs and sets the scroll down as he sits up completely.

“And the pillars, if he does just the one, it won't match the rest…”

“Tell me, does he do tear down? I'm starting to think we may as well be rid of the damned thing.”

“I could ask,” you frown.

“I was being facetious,” he sniffs, “though I'm sure you're all too eager to have another chat with that man.”

“Hmmm?” Your crinkle your brow.

“Did you enjoy your lunch?” He wonders.

You blanch. Had he seen that? And by what chance? Was it him stirring by the curtains?

“The sun was nice,” you say, “I wasn't out very long.”

“No, no, you should have breaks,” he says, “you work very hard, don't you?”

You blink. Is he saying something between the lines?

“I'll have my lunch in the kitchen tomorrow–”

“I am not trying to confine you,” he interjects brusquely, “you act as if I am a dictator. I never said you can't have a break. Nor did I say you shouldn't enjoy the sunshine–” he huffs and shows his palm in exasperation, “we are not arguing, alright? I am conversing with you.” He puts his hand down as it forms a fist, “I am simply checking in.”

You stare at him blankly. Your nerves swirl as you fidget. You can't stand this. The words being left unsaid as he pretends. Your heart pumps behind your ears as you feel it all spilling over.

“Mr. Laufeyson,” your voice quivers, “about yesterday…”

“Yesterday? Why, that was your personal day,” he says coyly.

“Look, uh, I know you heard… some things and I just wanna clear it up. It was nothing.”

“I don't know what you mean,” he squints, “it was only dead air. A misdial, I assume–”

“Then why–” you stop yourself and shake your head. “Nevermind.”

“Go on,” he urges, “why…”

You look away and rock. You've gone too far. You should know to just shut up.

“Why are you being so… nice?” You eke out as you dare to glance at him.

His irises flash like glittering emeralds. He slowly reclines and plants his elbow on the armrest and brings his fingers to his chin. He gives a thoughtful hum.

“I'm not nice?” He asks.

“Well, no, I didn't mean--f-forget I said anything,” you clasp your hands behind your back. “It's only…” you sputter and search for a way back but you can only go forward, “you made me tea.”

His eyes flit to the ceiling and back to you, “I did.”

“Why?” You ask.

“It's tea,” he throws his hands up and reclines against the chair, “just tea.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he echoes tritely, “what else would it be?”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I shouldn't have said anything.”

“If you didn't like the tea, you could just say,” he continues, further throwing you off.

“It was good, I just…” you tug at your cuffs, “may I go?”

“Go?”

“The carpenter is leaving and it's almost five–”

“Yes, go see him off,” he snips, “and run along.” He scowls and taps his fingers on the desk in agitation, “as well, to show how nice I can be, I will allow you to sleep in tomorrow. I will not require you until noon.”

“Noon, yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“Mm,” he grumbles and spins his chair away from you.

You shrink down and drag your feet across the room. You don't know why you asked. Why did you blurt all that out? You're so dumb. You should just have taken it for what it was and kept quiet.