#snowflake challenge 2023

[pufftheninja]

Inktober 2023 Day 20: Frost

[ashen--dreams]

god the internet pisses me off its just a bunch of snowflakes i fucking hate it

[suckaysuamigos200]

para el día 28 de Fairytember el día de hoy le toca a copos de nieve

y para este día decidí dibujar a una pequeña hada en el bosque invernal viendo cómo caen distintos hermosos copos de nieve junto a cierto invitado especial 🧚‍♀️❄️🌨️🦌.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆⋆

for the 28th of Fairytember today is the turn of snowflakes

and for this day I decided to draw a little fairy in the winter forest watching different beautiful snowflakes fall with a certain special guest 🧚‍♀️❄️🌨️🦌.

[libertyreads]

Book Review #84 of 2023--

Snowflakes and Sparks by Sophie-Leigh Robbins. Rating: 2 stars.

Read from June 28th to July 1st.

I want to start by saying that I think my 2 star rating is me being generous whereas most of the books I’ve read so far for Christmas in July haven’t been. This is a holiday rom-com novella following Suzie who is forced to return to the small town where her family vacationed for the holidays when she was a teenager. She’d rather work took her anywhere else but Old Pine Cove. Her embarrassing exit following a dramatic public humiliation still haunts her to this day over ten years later. Once she has arrived she discovers the boy she never got over lives next door and that he’s not letting her get away again.

So, you know how movies feel like a watered down version of novels most of the time? You have less time to build stuff up and develop characters in movies and books give you a chance to explore things that would end up on the cutting room floor. Well, this novella felt like a watered down version of a movie that was a watered down version of book. It sounds harsh but there is no depth there. There is no there there. I could see this making a really cute movie if a script writer managed to fluff it up a bit and add depth. But it’s just not a good written work at this point. There was little description of the settings, the world, the characters. Most of the actual descriptions in the novel are the Christmas decorations which is a shame. I love Christmas but you can’t just give me a few splashes of it and call it a day. The romance itself was lackluster. We got told a lot of things about these two characters and their relationship but none of it was ever in view of the reader. It made it hard to buy into. And don’t even get me started on the third act breakup. I don’t know what that even was. Such out of character behavior from the hero here and the heroine was so quick to forgive.

I will say there were moments that I enjoyed. I liked the event that Suzie hosted at the bookstore with the author signing followed by storytelling and hot chocolate. Such a cosy vibe. I also enjoyed the moment when Suzie was in danger and Alex had to come to her rescue. I DO wish that last one had provided more tension than what was there. I did like a reveal toward the end when Suzie finds out her best friend Dean was secretly from a wealthy family and we got a glimpse into their life before she made up with Alex and got back together with him. I don’t know. I was never interested in picking this one up when it was time for me to sit down to read for the day. That’s part of the reason it took 4 days to finish (the other part being that my husband and I were out of town to celebrate my birthday).

Overall, I give the book a 2 star rating, the romance a 1.75 star rating, and the Christmassy vibes a 3.5 poinsettia rating. 

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

The trouble with cones

Written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge, December 2023 edition

Prompt: pine, 508 words

Rated: M

CW: Explicit language

Tags: Coffee shop owner Steve; Tattoo studio owner Eddie; Flirting; Teasing; Sexual Tension

(Everything goes under the cut bc Eddie jumps right to the important question.)

“Is that a butt plug?”

Steve pinches his nose and heaves a long-suffering sigh. Tries to steel himself for the sight awaiting him. Turns and realizes he failed.

Eddie is leaning in the door of his tattoo studio, mouth curled into a cocky grin. Sleeves rolled up, like the cold doesn't bother him at all, revealing lean forearms covered in ink. Snowflakes gathering in his hair, stark white against the dark curls.

“Fucking hilarious,” Steve rolls his eyes, just barely remembers to cap his window marker before he tugs his freezing hands into his armpits. “Don't you have better things to do?”

“Well…” Eddie's eyes crinkle. “I'm not the one drawing a butt plug on my window.”

“It's a pine cone!” Steve sputters, face lighting up like a furnace. It stings in the frosty air. “Jesus fuck- it's supposed to look festive, why would I draw a butt plug?”

Eddie watches him gesture at the cursed creation he has spent the last thirty minutes slaving over with an expression full of fond indulgence. When Steve signed the contract for his quaint little coffee shop, he wondered why there were no other bidders for the place …

“See, I wondered, but who am I to kink shame you?”

He is beginning to suspect the reason now.

“It is a pine cone,” he insists lamely. “It even has the- what d'you call them? The little nub thingies!”

Eddie quirks a brow. Steve turns and looks at his work.

“Oh fuck,” he groans.

Eddie pulls some hair in front of his mouth, but his shoulders are shaking treacherously. Steve thinks he dies, just a little.

“Here, lemme help.”

Eddie's hands are warm as he steals the marker from his stiff fingers. He whips his bandana from his back pocket to wipe the embarrassing evidence of Steve's total lack of artistic talent off the window, and then-

Then he works his magic. Steve watches him bounce to and fro before the glass like a manic blur of creative energy, brow furrowed in concentration, tongue poking out from between plush lips.

When he steps away, Steve doesn't say anything for a second. Too mesmerized by the image Eddie has thrown together with those quick, efficient strokes of his wrist. A steaming mug of coffee, surrounded by a cluster of artfully scattered pine cones, baubles and twinkling lights dangling above.

“Thanks,” he finally manages to croak. “It's… That really wasn't-”

And then Eddie grabs his arm and pushes back the sleeve of his sweater and he forgets what words are.

“Did you…” he squawks when he finally remembers. “Did you just write on my arm with window marker?”

“Yup,” Eddie says proudly, tugging the marker into Steve’s back pocket. “So that you know where to find me. In case you ever need my assistance with any conical objects again.”

He winks, and then he's skipping into his studio. Steve stays outside and stares at the numbers on his arm for a long time. The snow falls around him, but suddenly he isn't cold anymore.

Part 2

[svn-bangtan]

Soulmates

»pairing: Yoongi x reader

»genre: BTS | 13+ | Fluff

»wc/date: 4.5k | June 2023

» warnings: Just some fluff 

»Summary: Everyone had a soulmate and many find theirs much faster than others. Throughout her years being alive, Y/n is slowly beginning to lose hope in finding her soulmate. After becoming a successful artist and meeting a new client and a stranger at a cafe, things change very quickly. 

» notes: THIS ONE-SHOT WAS ORIGINALLY POSTED ON MY OLD ACCOUNT @loomdiamonds​ 

»  m.list | Taglist | Thoughts? Comments? Concerns

Soulmates. The notion of being destined to be with someone, a connection meant to last a lifetime. It's a captivating concept that defies comprehension.

In this extraordinary world, every person bears a unique tattoo on their wrist. It consists of their soulmate's first and middle initials, followed by their last name. For instance, if Y/n's soulmate's name is Tong Sochun, her tattoo would read Tong S.

Discovering one's true soulmate occurs through physical contact, such as a high five. When this happens, the wrist tattoo vanishes, replaced by a new one encircling the ring finger, bearing the partner's full name. From that moment forward, they both embark on a blissful journey together.

Simple, right? Well, not quite.

Y/n's tattoo reads Min Y., a constant reminder since her earliest memories of yearning to meet him or her. However, as the years pass, hope gradually slips away.

Recently, she relocated to Seoul, seeking better prospects in this vibrant metropolis. Unfortunately, after spending considerable time here, it feels like an exercise in futility.

Today, she finds solace in a cozy cafe, engrossed in a new book, relishing her well-deserved day off. These are the moments she eagerly anticipates—a chance to escape reality, stepping out of her apartment and immersing herself in simple pleasures that help momentarily forget about soulmates and the complexities of daily life.

A deep sigh escapes Y/n as she briefly diverts her attention from the book, gazing outside at the enchanting view of Seoul. She offers a faint smile, hugging her coffee mug a little closer. For an instant, she glances down at her wrist, tracing the delicate script that has adorned it since infancy.

Despite her waning hope of finding her soulmate, Y/n yearns to experience the same happiness her parents share—a love so profound, nurtured from childhood, and fortified by a single hug in first grade.

It's every girl's dream—to witness her mom and dad, who never had to embark on wild adventures to find their destined partner.

Setting her cup down, Y/n sweeps her hair away from her face, observing as the first snowflakes begin their gentle descent from the sky. Her gaze drifts downward, lost in contemplation.

Out there, somewhere, Y/n's soulmate patiently awaits. Perhaps they ponder the same questions that haunt her. Uncertainty and countless inquiries swirl within them, chief among them being the fear of rejection.

Rejection is a cruel blow, one that cuts deeply. It ranks among the worst acts one can inflict on another, second only to criminal behavior. When you experience outright rejection, your tattoos vanish, and you become destined to never find love again. Even if you were to try, happiness would forever elude you. It's challenging to articulate fully but rest assured, it's a devastating fate to endure.

What if Y/n's soulmate has passed away, unbeknownst to her? The same fate awaits.

Love becomes an elusive concept, eternal happiness forever out of reach. If she never gets the chance to be with her soulmate, life becomes an unrelenting misery. It's an unfortunate reality, one that plagues the minds of all who ponder the enigma of soulmates.

This notion has even crossed Y/n's mind. At twenty-eight, while all her friends have found their soulmates, she has begun to wonder if her day will ever come. Perhaps her destined partner is no longer among the living. Yet, her wrist bears the undeniable mark—a reminder that they still exist, waiting to be discovered.

"What is a lovely lady like yourself doing all alone up here?" a male voice suddenly interrupts, causing Y/n to jump slightly.

She turns her head and finds a tall man with shaggy brown hair, his warm smile directed at her. Returning the smile, she shrugs her shoulders and raises her book. "Just reading, cherishing the simple things."

Nodding, he gestures toward the empty seat in front of her, silently seeking permission to join her. Y/n agrees, and as he settles across from her, her eyes are drawn to his hand. She notices a name etched around his ring finger, and a quiet sigh escapes her. 'Of course, someone as good-looking as him has already found his soulmate,' she muses inwardly.

"You'll find them one day," he remarks suddenly, causing Y/n's eyes to widen in surprise. 'Did I say it out loud?'

Chuckling, he holds up his hand, his gaze fixed on her bewildered expression. "You were staring, so I assumed you were questioning yourself." Y/n offers a faint smile as she turns her gaze back to the window, where the falling snow gradually blankets the ground.

"It's astonishing to think that somewhere out there, my soulmate awaits me," she muses, looking down at her tattoo with a tender smile. "I admit, meeting them is a truly magical experience." She takes a deep breath and glances at the man, finding him already gazing at her with a smile.

"Hopefully, that day comes soon," she confesses, her fingers gently tracing the tattoo. "This waiting game has become unbearable."

The man chuckles in response to her words, understanding etched on his face as he takes a sip of his coffee. Once again, they sit in silence, finding comfort in each other's presence until Y/n breaks the quietude.

"I apologize for my rudeness. I'm Chun Y/n," she introduces herself.

"Chun?" he says, his expression a mix of confusion and surprise. Y/n nods, offering a sweet smile. "Yes, I'm not originally from Seoul. I moved here from Namyang-dong."

He nods, his grin widening. "Well, my name is Hoseok, and I might just know your soulmate," he declares, standing up and leaving Y/n perplexed.

"Wait, what?"

"Chun is a rare last name, right? I don't think I've ever come across anyone with that surname," he explains, prompting Y/n to slowly nod. "Yes, it's more common in Japan, if I'm not mistaken."

Gently taking hold of her hand, Hoseok gazes down at her tattoo, humming in contemplation. "Well, a good friend of mine, who recently returned to back to Seoul, bears your last name and initial on his wrist. He hasn't met his soulmate yet. It's possible that the two of you are destined for each other."

"But I'm confused," Y/n interjects, withdrawing her hand. "Is that why you approached me? Do you do this with many women?"

Hoseok bursts into hearty laughter, a sound that oddly resembles a windshield wiper, shaking his head. "No, I mistook you for my fiancée by accident. You two have a striking resemblance, and when I noticed your mark, I thought I'd explore the possibility."

"Oh, I see..." Y/n says, leaning back in her seat. "So, what now? If I choose to entertain this possibility, how will I meet your friend?"

Hoseok smirks, reclining in his chair and taking another sip of his coffee. "Leave that to me Chun Y/n."

Sometimes, Y/n finds herself plagued by a persistent thought that whispers she may never cross paths with her soulmate. It's as if the universe has singled her out, marking her as one of the unlucky ones destined to live without that profound connection. This notion lingers, casting a shadow of doubt and loneliness over her heart.

Yet, despite occasional glimmers of hope ignited by her encounter at the café, Y/n has learned to temper her expectations. She has grown accustomed to guarding her heart, shielding herself from the potential pain of disappointment.

In this particular moment, Y/n is immersed in her art studio at work, fully absorbed in a new piece taking shape on her canvas.

Suddenly, a gentle knock at the door interrupts her concentration, drawing her attention towards the entrance. Her face lights up with a smile as she sees her boss, Kim Namjoon, stepping into the room, accompanied by an incredibly striking man.

Rising gracefully from her seat, Y/n warmly greets them both, and Namjoon turns towards his companion, ready to make the introductions.

"Y/n, this is Yoongi, my best friend and a producer," Namjoon announces, his voice tinged with pride. "Yoongi, meet Y/n, one of my incredibly talented artists. She's the one who painted that remarkable piece you showed interest in a few months ago."

A delicate blush colors Y/n's cheeks as she gazes at the man introduced as Yoongi. His presence commands attention, and the timbre of his deep voice momentarily catches her off guard. "Thank you," she responds graciously, her voice gentle and composed. "I truly appreciate your kind words, sir."

Yoongi, his eyes seemingly locked on Y/n, offers her a warm smile. "Please, call me Yoongi. I'm intrigued by the story behind that captivating painting," he says, his curiosity evident as he takes a leisurely stroll around her studio, Namjoon following closely behind. Together, they admire the artwork adorning the walls, until their attention is drawn to a copy of the painting that had caught their eye.

With a steadying breath, Y/n prepares to share the tale behind her creation. As she points to the two figures portrayed in the painting, she feels Yoongi's unwavering gaze upon her. She strives to maintain her professional composure, even as her heart flutters with anticipation. Her words flow with passion and depth, painting a vivid picture with her storytelling.

"Beautiful," Yoongi remarks, causing Y/n to momentarily lose herself in his gaze. A deeper shade of pink graces her cheeks, and Namjoon interjects, unwittingly shattering the enchantment.

"Speaking of soulmates, Yoongi here wanted to commission a piece for his own," Namjoon shares, unknowingly pricking at Y/n's delicate hopes. Swiftly, she masks any trace of disappointment and offers a genuine smile. "It would be my pleasure to create a piece for you, Yoongi."

"Hey, Y/n," Namjoon says with a warm smile. "I need to take a quick call. I'll be right back." Without waiting for a response, he exits the room, leaving Y/n alone in the studio.

Just as their connection seems to deepen, a stack of papers held precariously in Yoongi's hands begins to waver, threatening to tumble to the floor. In an instant, a gust of wind rushes through the studio from Namjoon leaving briefly, scattering the papers in all directions.

Reacting with swift reflexes, both Y/n and Yoongi instinctively reach out to catch the fleeing sheets, their hand's mere inches away from touching. Their eyes meet briefly, a fleeting spark of electric anticipation passing between them, hinting at the profound connection that almost transpired.

Yet, their near-touch is abruptly interrupted as Namjoon bursts into the studio, his voice filled with urgency. "Yoongi, we have to go. It's already 3, and we'll be late for our meeting with Jin." Namjoon swiftly exits the studio, with Yoongi following in his wake. However, before he leaves, Yoongi turns back to offer Y/n one final smile. "I look forward to working with you, Y/n."

Returning the smile, Y/n bows respectfully. "Likewise," she replies softly as Yoongi walks away, leaving her once again in the solitude of her studio. A sigh escapes her lips as she settles back into her seat, her gaze fixed upon the canvas before her. "Every time, Y/n," she whispers to herself, a tinge of frustration evident in her voice.

Shaking off her thoughts, Y/n firmly grasps her paintbrush, determined to pour her emotions onto the canvas once more. Stroke by stroke, she channels her hopes and dreams, infusing her art with passion, knowing that one day, amidst the uncertainty that lingers, her soulmate might just find her.

"I'm curious, what prompted your call today?" Y/n asked, taking a sip of her coffee. She heard Hoseok chuckle on the other end of the line as she finished tidying up her workstation and made her way toward the bedroom in her studio.

"Your soulmate, of course," Hoseok replied, causing Y/n to roll her eyes. It had been about three days since they had met at the café, and ever since, Hoseok had been eager to introduce his friend to Y/n to determine if they were potential soulmates.

Unfortunately, due to their busy schedules and Y/n's dedication to her artwork, they hadn't been able to meet yet. Despite Hoseok having a soulmate, Y/n couldn't shake Mr. Yoongi from her thoughts. She knew it was wrong since they could never be together, but she couldn't help but think about him.

"I don't know, Hoseok," Y/n said as she sat on the bed in the bedroom. Mr. Kim, the building owner, had kindly agreed to remodel her studio into an apartment-like space, complete with a sleeping area. Y/n was grateful for this arrangement since she practically lived in her studio more than her actual home.

"Why not, Y/n? He's available tonight, and so are you. It's perfect," Hoseok persisted, causing Y/n to roll her eyes and glance out the window at the weather. "I'm still at work, and even if I go, I probably won't have time to go home and freshen up. Besides, have you seen the weather outside?"

"You're impossible, Chun Y/n, you know that?" Hoseok teased, eliciting a laugh from Y/n. After some time on the phone and a bit of convincing, she eventually agreed to finally meet Hoseok's friend that night. Once she hung up, she lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, contemplating the upcoming meeting.

'Try not to get your hopes up, Y/n. There's a strong possibility it's just a coincidence,' she thought to herself. As she lay there, a knock on her studio door interrupted her thoughts. She got up and opened the door, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of the man in front of her.

"Mr. Yoongi?"

"Hello, I just came to talk to you briefly about the painting. May I come in?" he asked politely. Y/n nodded, opening the door wider for him to enter. She took note of his well-fitted suit and noticed that his hair was now styled in waves instead of being pushed back.

Closing the door behind him, Mr. Yoongi stood in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets. "So, have you thought of any ideas for your painting for them?"

He paused for a moment, turning to look at Y/n. "Well, I'd love to hear your ideas. I've made a list of possibilities, but I'm not entirely sure."

"I'd love to help you in any way I can. Let's start by discussing how you would describe your soulmate," Y/n said, walking over to her desk to grab her notepad. She heard him sigh as he took a seat on a random chair, capturing Y/n's attention.

"I haven't met them just yet," he said quietly, his words drawing Y/n's full attention. "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that."

"It's alright, really," Mr. Yoongi replied, looking up at Y/n with a slight smile before leaning back in the chair. "After I saw your artwork—forgive me if this sounds creepy—but I couldn't help but look more and more at all of your pieces. Since starting my career as a producer, I feel like I've lost touch with people, and I stopped actively searching."

Y/n nodded, immediately understanding his sentiment as it resonated with her own feelings. As much as she wanted to meet her soulmate, with each passing day, her hope dwindled, fearing that perhaps they didn't want to be found.

"When I saw your artwork, it instantly made me feel alive again. It made me see the brighter side of things and gave me the courage to give the search another try after all these years," he continued, locking eyes with Y/n.

Unbeknownst to her, her heart began to beat faster. "Thanks to you, I found hope again. With this painting, I want to convey that even during my period of giving up, not a day went by that I didn't think about them. And who better to paint it than the person who restored my hope?"

Y/n smiled warmly, feeling honored by his words. She jotted down some notes in her notebook. "Well, just know that I am truly honored to undertake this for you. Your soulmate is already so fortunate to have you."

They engaged in a conversation, discussing various ideas for the painting until Mr. Yoongi's phone suddenly rang. He apologized and checked the caller ID. "I'm sorry, but I have to meet up with a friend right now."

"That's alright. Let's call it a night," Y/n said, setting her notebook aside as they both stood up. She walked him to the door, and as he was about to leave, his eyes caught sight of a flyer hanging nearby. "You're having a showcase?"

"Yes, it's the day after tomorrow. You're welcome to come if you'd like," Y/n replied, offering a polite smile. Nodding, Mr. Yoongi returned the smile before opening the door. "I'll definitely stop by. See you later. And thank you again for your assistance."

"Anytime, Mr. Yoongi," Y/n said, bidding him farewell.

"Wow, I had no idea you were such a talented artist!" Hoseok exclaimed, his eyes scanning the art gallery where Y/n's showcase was taking place. Y/n chuckled softly and nodded in response.

"Well, to be fair, we haven't known each other for that long," she replied graciously, expressing her gratitude to the attendees. Hoseok seized the opportunity to inquire about her recent date. Turning towards Y/n, he asked, "So, how did the date go? Are you guys soulmates?"

Y/n let out a deep sigh, shaking her head in disappointment. "They never showed up," she stated, her gaze focused on a piece of artwork in front of them.

Strangely, she wasn't as disheartened as one might expect. In fact, she had almost decided not to attend the date herself after her encounter with Mr. Yoongi. "I should probably strangle him," Hoseok muttered under his breath, expressing his frustration with his unreliable friend.

As Hoseok continued venting about his friend's unreliability, Y/n turned her head to the side and caught sight of someone entering the gallery.  A light smile formed on her lips for a brief moment before she quickly shook her head and redirected her attention back to Hoseok.

It's not him, Y/n. Remember, don't get your hopes up. His soulmate is out there, and it's unlikely to be you, she reminded herself silently, glancing down at her wrist.

Although Y/n had met Mr. Yoongi twice, she had never caught a glimpse of his wrist to determine their compatibility. In truth, she preferred not to know. She had been making an effort to stop thinking about him, but for some inexplicable reason, she couldn't shake him from her thoughts.

"He's right there. I'm going to give him a piece of my mind," Hoseok grumbled, his frown directed at someone behind Y/n. Shaking her head at his impulsive behavior, Y/n decided to stroll around her exhibit, relishing in the pride she felt for how far she had come in her career.

Painting had always been her refuge, her way of escaping reality, and each canvas held its own unique journey and story. While she never shared those stories with the public, she delighted in hearing people's theories and interpretations of her artwork.

Lost in her own thoughts, Y/n found herself standing in front of her piece titled "Loveless Love." Several people had gathered around it, captivated by its beauty and engaged in discussions. This sight brought a wider smile to her face.

"It's a truly beautiful piece, as I've told you before," a familiar voice spoke, causing Y/n to jump slightly in surprise. She turned her head and saw Yoongi standing there, his gummy smile radiating warmth. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's alright," Y/n replied, her gaze returning to the painting. She could feel Yoongi's eyes on her, causing a gentle blush to color her cheeks as she focused on the artwork before them. Despite the crowd surrounding them, it felt as though they were the only two people in the room.

"So beautiful," Yoongi whispered, capturing Y/n's attention once again. She met his gaze, and in his eyes, she saw a certain look.

Slowly, he reached up his hand, his fingers tenderly grazing her cheek before delicately tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

Y/n's heart fluttered as she gazed up at Yoongi, the man she had come to love deeply. They sat together under the shade of a grand tree, sharing an intimate picnic. Her eyes met his, captivated by the gentle glimmer in his deep brown orbs, and a radiant smile graced her lips.

"Yoongi," she said, her voice filled with affection. "I can't help but wonder... how much do you love me?" As she spoke, Y/n noticed the beautiful ring adorning her left ring finger, engraved with Yoongi's full name.

Yoongi's eyes locked onto hers, and he tenderly clasped her hands. "Trying to extract my wedding vows, huh?" he playfully remarked. "Well, I'm afraid that's top-secret information. But I can promise you, my love for you is immeasurable." His words were accompanied by a light chuckle as he lightly tapped her shoulder.

Unable to contain her joy, Y/n giggled and lightly tapped his good shoulder in return. Leaning down, Yoongi planted a soft kiss on her head, his gaze never leaving her eyes. "Seriously, I want to know," Y/n insisted, a glimmer of curiosity shining in her gaze.

Her expression turned tender as she spoke, her voice filled with heartfelt sincerity. "My love for you knows no bounds. It will endure through rain and sunshine, treating you like a precious diamond and never letting you wander far from my side. Even when distance separates us, you'll always remain in my heart, every second of every day. My love for you will bloom until my very last breath, for with you, I have found purpose and a love I want to show you." Y/n's eyes sparkled as she held Yoongi's gaze, her love pouring forth.

Yoongi's gaze softened, brimming with warmth and adoration. "I remember the first time I saw you," he reminisced.

"From that moment, I knew you were my soulmate. Your presence in your studio captured my attention completely. Your eyes, your smile... they stole my heart the instant you spoke. I never believed in love at first sight until I met you. And to this day, I can't believe how perfectly we were meant to be. You are everything I've ever dreamed of in a soulmate, and now, you are mine. Please never doubt how much I appreciate everything you do for us. You mean the world to me, and I love you with all my heart."

Y/n's cheeks flushed with warmth and delight. "Stop," she exclaimed, her voice filled with a mix of affection and amusement. "That was so cute, it might make me start crying." She covered her face with her hands, feeling overwhelmed by the depth of Yoongi's love.

Yoongi chuckled softly and gently removed her hands, his lips pressing against the back of them. "And if you do cry," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness, "I'll always be here to wipe away your tears."

Feeling her heart swell with love, Y/n sat up fully, being careful not to bump her head on a tree branch. Their eyes met once again, and the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their own little universe.

"I can't wait to marry you," Yoongi confessed, his hand tenderly caressing Y/n's cheek. Her smile grew wider, and she felt an overwhelming sense of joy and anticipation.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Y/n leaned forward and kissed Yoongi with all the passion and love she held within her. The kiss started softly but soon deepened, as every inch of their bodies and souls melted into one another. Yoongi's hands cradled Y/n's face, ensuring the perfect connection, while she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, savoring the warmth of his embrace.

Finally, they pulled apart, their lips still tingling, but their smiles radiant and content. Y/n rested her head on Yoongi's chest, listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat.

Time seemed to stand still as Y/n gasped, returning to reality. Her eyes widened, and she looked up at Yoongi, astonishment etched on both their faces. Slowly, a slight pain emanated from her wrist and left ring finger, drawing their attention downward.

Unbeknownst to them, the entire room had turned their gaze towards the couple, their curiosity piqued. Y/n's wrist tattoo faded away, replaced by a name on her ring finger—Min Yoongi.

"Oh my god," Y/n whispered in awe, her eyes flickering up to meet Yoongi's matching expression.

He is my soulmate. He's who I've been waiting for, she thought, her heart overflowing with joy.

Countless questions swirled in her mind, but before she could voice them, Yoongi took action. In a moment of pure instinct, he pressed his lips against hers, leaving Y/n breathless and captivated once again. She gasped in surprise but quickly melted into the kiss, their connection growing stronger with every passing second.

The room erupted into applause and cheers, but Y/n blushed profusely, hiding her face in Yoongi's chest. His laughter reverberated through his chest as he relished in her adorable reaction. "See, Y/n? I told you I knew your soulmate," Hoseok declared triumphantly, catching the attention of both Y/n and Yoongi.

"He's the one I was supposed to meet?" Y/n asked, her voice filled with astonishment. Hoseok nodded, and Y/n turned to Yoongi, finding the same disbelief mirrored in his eyes.

"Yes, Yoongi, she's the one you stood up last night," Hoseok explained, prompting Y/n to laugh wholeheartedly.

"In my defense, I didn't go because I got caught up in work after visiting you," Yoongi confessed, causing Y/n to smile and playfully shake her head. "It's alright. At least now we know who this painting is for."

Yoongi's eyes softened as he whispered, "Yes, my beautiful soulmate, Chun Y/n." Y/n's heart raced, and her smile widened further. Embracing the moment, Yoongi leaned in for a quick peck on her lips. "Guys, please get a room," Hoseok groaned, earning giggles from everyone witnessing the affectionate exchange.

"Can't I cherish my beautiful soulmate?" Yoongi playfully retorted, his eyes shining with adoration.

"Stop it," Y/n protested, her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue. She looked down shyly, only to be gently guided by Yoongi to meet his gaze once more. "Don't be shy now, Y/n. This is how it will be forever. I promise you," he declared, his voice brimming with sincerity.

"Forever," Y/n whispered, her eyes sparkling with love and excitement. "I absolutely love the sound of that." Their love had found its place, and from that moment on, they embarked on an enchanting journey, hand in hand, destined for a future filled with eternal love and happiness.

[nikatyler]

🎄 Advent SIMSlendar 2023 🎄

It's my favourite time of the year, so I'm back with another challenge! At first, I was planning this to be just a CAS challenge, but then I thought: why not let everyone approach the prompt as they like? Make new sims, make over old ones, build, decorate rooms, create edits or lookbooks, maybe a little bit of everything or something entirely different? It's all up to you, just have fun this holiday season.

Just like with my previous challenges, you can start posting whenever you’d like! But since I had an advent calendar in mind for this challenge, I’m personally starting on December 1st and will end on December 24th. And, you don’t have to do all the prompts if you don’t feel like it. You can change their order too!

Feel free to tag your posts #adventsimslendar2023 for everyone to see! (I promise I'll try to check it regularly and reblog everything this time around.)

Prompts are transcribed under the cut.

Snowflake

Red & Green

Mistletoe

Elf

Naughty List

Carol

Angel

In the Mountains

Shining Bright

Grinch

Holiday Party

Little One

Gingerbread

Silver & Blue

A Good Child

Candy Cane

Sweater

Tropical

Animal Friend

Holiday Movie

Winter Night

Gold & Red

Present

Free Space

[loving-the-cambridges]

First winter date - Captain Rex - reader

Life day fic exchange 2023 @cloneficgiftexchange

for @dystopicjumpsuit I hope you'll enjoy this :-)

The police station, with its incessant hum of activity, was a world unto itself – a place where stories unfolded every day, some of hope, others of despair. In this world, Rex moved with a quiet authority, his presence both commanding and reassuring. Among the bustling corridors and busy desks, there was a sense of family, a bond forged in the face of shared challenges. Cody, his brother, was a constant figure, his leadership as steady as it was inspiring. Ponds and Fox, his other siblings, added to the familial atmosphere, each with their own unique strengths. Fives and Echo, his cousins, were the younger, more spirited members of this tight-knit group.

In this hive of activity, (Y/N) was a beacon of calm. As a victim counselor, her role was to mend the unseen wounds, to offer solace in the midst of chaos. (Y/N)'s arrival at the station had brought a new dimension to their work, a reminder of the human element in their often mechanical routine.

Rex had been drawn to her from the start. It wasn't just her compassion that captivated him, but the way she seemed to truly listen, to understand the pain of others and guide them through it. He had seen her soothe frayed nerves with just a few words, seen her bring a semblance of peace to tormented souls. And each time, he found himself admiring her more, the professional respect gradually intertwining with a deeper, more personal affection.

But expressing those feelings was a battle in itself. Rex was a man of action, not words. His emotions were a private affair, often hidden behind a facade of stoicism. Yet, with (Y/N), he felt a desire to open up, to share parts of himself he had kept locked away.

The winter evening was a symphony of crystalline beauty, the snowflakes dancing in the air like a myriad of tiny stars. It was on such an evening that Rex found the courage to ask her out. The ice rink, with its festive lights and the promise of shared laughter, seemed like the perfect place.

"Hey, (Y/N)," Rex started, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness. "I was wondering if you'd like to go to the ice rink tonight? Thought it might be a fun way to unwind."

(Y/N) looked up, surprise flickering in her eyes, quickly replaced by a warm smile. "That sounds wonderful, Rex. I'd love to."

The ice rink, aglow with twinkling lights and festive cheer, was a stage set for an evening of clumsy grace and laughter. Rex, with the effortless glide of a seasoned skater, approached (Y/N), who was clinging to the rink's edge like a lifeline. Her determination to spend time with her crush had brought her here, but her skating skills were as untested as a ship's maiden voyage.

"Seems like you've found a new best friend in that railing," Rex quipped, skating up to her with a playful smirk.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, her grip on the railing tightening just a tad. "Well, it's certainly more reliable than my skating skills," she shot back, her tone light but tinged with a hint of nervousness.

Rex chuckled, extending his hand towards her. "How about you ditch the railing for a while? I promise I'm a better partner than cold metal."

Hesitantly, (Y/N) took his hand, her heart skipping a beat. As they slowly moved away from her safety net, she wobbled unsteadily.

"Whoa there, are you trying to skate or are you practicing your penguin impression?" Rex teased, his grip on her hand reassuringly firm.

"Hey, I'll have you know penguins are very graceful creatures... on land," she retorted, trying to mask her anxiety with humor.

Rex laughed, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "Alright, let's focus on the basics. Just follow my lead and try not to mow down any innocent bystanders."

They began with simple glides, Rex patiently guiding her through the motions. Every time she faltered, he was there, his presence a constant source of support.

"You know, for someone who clings to railings, you're surprisingly adventurous," he noted, as she took a shaky glide forward.

(Y/N) grinned, feeling a surge of confidence. "I have a good teacher," she said, her voice softer, more sincere.

As they continued, Rex's teasing became a comforting rhythm, a playful undercurrent to their conversation. He joked about starting a skating school for the hopelessly uncoordinated, playfully suggesting she could be his first student. She laughed, the sound mingling with the crisp night air, her earlier apprehension melting away like snow in the sun.

They attempted a cautious turn, Rex's instructions interspersed with light-hearted comments. "Okay, now just pivot on your left foot... or just do a wild spin, that works too!"

(Y/N)'s attempt at a pivot ended in a whirl of arms and a near collision, but Rex's quick reflexes saved them both from a tumble. They ended up in a close embrace, her hands on his shoulders, his arms around her waist. For a moment, they just looked at each other, the laughter fading into a moment of silent connection.

"See, you're getting the hang of it. Soon you'll be out-skating me," Rex said, his voice warm, his smile genuine.

(Y/N) felt a rush of warmth, not from the exercise, but from the feeling of being this close to Rex, of being the focus of his playful yet caring attention. The evening was no longer about skating; it had transformed into a dance of words and laughter, a shared experience that spoke of budding feelings and the promise of more.

As they left the ice, their hands still joined, the night seemed to wrap around them, a blanket of stars and possibilities.

The transition from the ice rink to the bustling Christmas market felt seamless, a continuation of the evening's enchantment. Rex, still holding (Y/N)'s hand, felt an unspoken reluctance to let go, their fingers intertwined as they navigated through the vibrant maze of stalls and lights. The market was alive with the spirit of the season, each corner a new discovery, each sound a note in the festive symphony.

(Y/N)'s eyes sparkled under the canopy of Christmas lights, her gaze wandering from one stall to the next with childlike wonder. "Look at these ornaments, Rex! Have you ever seen anything so detailed?" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of awe and excitement.

Rex leaned in to look at the intricate glass baubles she was pointing at. "They're pretty amazing. You have a good eye for these things," he replied, his tone laced with genuine admiration.

As they moved on, (Y/N) couldn't help but shiver slightly, the cold finally catching up with her. Rex immediately noticed, his concern evident. "Getting chilly?" he asked, his hand instinctively rubbing her arm in a comforting gesture.

"Just a little," she admitted, a slight quiver in her voice.

Rex's eyes scanned the nearby stalls, landing on one that promised warmth in a cup. "How about a hot drink to warm you up? What would you like?" he asked, ready to fetch whatever she desired.

"Surprise me," (Y/N) said with a trusting smile, her eyes twinkling in anticipation.

Rex returned shortly, two steaming cups in his hands. He handed her a hot chocolate topped with marshmallows, the steam rising like a warm embrace. "Thought you might like this," he said, his eyes searching hers for approval.

(Y/N) took a sip, the warmth of the chocolate spreading through her. "It's perfect. How did you know?" she asked, her smile brightening the already illuminated night.

Rex shrugged modestly. "I just took a wild guess. Glad I got it right," he replied, his own cup of mulled wine warming his hands.

They continued their stroll, sipping their drinks and sharing laughs. Rex pointed to a ring toss game. "Bet you can't get three rings on those bottles," he challenged, his eyes gleaming with playful mischief.

(Y/N) accepted the challenge, her throws missing the mark but eliciting more laughter than disappointment. "Seems I'm as good at this as I am at skating," she joked, her laughter infectious.

Rex joined in, his attempts equally unsuccessful. "Looks like we're both in need of some practice," he conceded, his smile never fading.

Their journey through the market led them to a photo booth adorned with festive props. Rex, ever the instigator of fun, grabbed a Santa hat, placing it on his head with a grin. "Your turn, choose your festive disguise," he said, handing her a pair of reindeer antlers.

(Y/N) put on the antlers, striking a pose. "Ready for our close-up, Santa?" she teased, her eyes shining with mirth.

The photos they took were a series of silly poses and laughter-filled moments, each click capturing the joy and ease of their burgeoning relationship.

As they neared a group of carolers, their voices harmonizing in a timeless Christmas tune, (Y/N) felt a pull towards Rex, a desire to be closer. She leaned against him, her head resting gently on his shoulder. "I love this song," she whispered, her breath visible in the cold air.

Rex's arm found its way around her, pulling her closer. "Me too," he replied, his voice soft, his heart full.

The journey from the vibrant life of the Christmas market to the quiet streets leading to (Y/N)'s place was a mix of comfortable silence and soft conversation. The car ride, with Rex at the wheel, felt like a gentle deceleration from the evening's excitement, a gradual return to reality, yet tinged with a reluctance for the night to end.

(Y/N) sat beside him, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. The evening had unfolded like a chapter from a fairy tale, each moment with Rex adding another layer to her growing feelings. She glanced at him, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights, a sense of warmth enveloping her.

As they pulled up to her apartment, the car's engine coming to a quiet stop, a sudden nervousness gripped her. She didn’t want the night to end, not yet. "Thanks for tonight, Rex. I had a really great time," she said, her voice laced with sincerity.

"Me too, (Y/N). It was... it was really special," Rex replied, his tone reflecting a depth of emotion that resonated with her own feelings.

There was a pause, a moment suspended in time, as (Y/N) gathered her courage. "Would you like to come in? Maybe watch a Christmas movie or something?" she asked, her heart racing with the boldness of her invitation.

Rex turned to look at her, surprise and happiness mingling in his eyes. "I'd like that," he said, a smile spreading across his face.

Inside her apartment, (Y/N) felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. She busied herself with small tasks, turning on the lights, taking off her coat, anything to calm the fluttering in her stomach. Rex followed her in, his presence filling the space with a comforting warmth.

"So, any favorite Christmas movies?" Rex asked, his voice casual but his eyes holding a hint of anticipation.

(Y/N) thought for a moment, wanting to pick something that would set the right tone. "How about 'It's a Wonderful Life'? It's a classic," she suggested, hoping her choice would prolong the warmth and closeness of the evening.

"Perfect choice," Rex agreed, settling onto the couch.

In the cozy confines of (Y/N)'s living room, with the final scenes of "It's a Wonderful Life" painting flickers of light and shadow, Rex and (Y/N) found themselves in a world of their own creation. Their confessions of feelings had woven a new tapestry of emotions, coloring the room with an unspoken promise of something profound and beautiful.

(Y/N) felt a whirlwind of emotions as she leaned into Rex, his arm around her, a gesture of comfort and connection. His heartbeat, steady and reassuring under her ear, was a melody that harmonized perfectly with the rapid beats of her own heart. The air between them was charged with a new energy, an anticipation of what was to come.

Rex, overcome with a sense of rightness and completion, looked down at (Y/N), her eyes lifting to meet his. In her gaze, he found reflections of his own feelings – a mixture of wonder, happiness, and a profound connection that went beyond words. The room, with its soft lighting and the quiet hum of the ending movie, seemed to fade into insignificance, leaving only the two of them, suspended in a moment that felt as timeless as it was fleeting.

As the closing credits rolled, the music a soft undertone to their shared silence, Rex gently tilted (Y/N)'s chin up towards him. Their eyes locked, conveying depths of emotion that words could never fully capture. The distance between them lessened, the magnetic pull of their mutual affection drawing them closer.

(Y/N)'s heart raced as she realized what was about to happen. Her nervousness was a fluttering bird in her chest, but it was overshadowed by a profound desire, a yearning that had been building throughout the night. She could feel Rex's breath, a warm whisper against her skin, the closeness sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

And then, in a moment that seemed both an eternity and an instant, their lips met. It was a gentle collision, a soft convergence of emotions and desires. The kiss was tentative at first, a careful exploration, but it quickly deepened, fueled by the pent-up feelings and the undeniable connection that had brought them to this point.

The world outside, with its cold winter night and silent stars, seemed a universe away. In that kiss, they found a warmth and a rightness that spoke of shared futures and whispered promises. It was a first kiss, but it carried the weight and depth of something much more, a symbol of a bond that had been forged in shared laughter, stolen glances, and unspoken affections.

As they finally pulled away, a breathless moment later, their eyes opened to a world that seemed brighter, more vivid.

In the aftermath of their first kiss, a silence filled the room, profound and comfortable, wrapping Rex and (Y/N) in a cocoon of newfound intimacy. The flickering lights from the TV cast a soft glow on their faces, revealing shared smiles and eyes bright with emotion.

Rex, his heart still pounding from the kiss, felt a clarity he had never experienced before. Looking into (Y/N)'s eyes, he found the courage to give voice to the feelings that the kiss had only begun to express. “(Y/N),” he started, his voice low and filled with emotion, “I need to tell you... I’ve fallen for you. It’s been building for a while, but tonight, everything became so clear.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened slightly, a soft blush coloring her cheeks. Her own emotions, a tangled mix of joy and affection, bubbled to the surface. “Rex, I feel the same way,” she confessed, her voice a whisper of shared sentiment. “I didn’t realize it until tonight, but what I feel for you... it’s more than I ever expected.”

Their confessions hung in the air, simple yet profound, bridging any distance that had once existed between them. In that moment, they understood that what they had was special, a connection that went beyond mere attraction or companionship.

With a newfound boldness, (Y/N) leaned in for another kiss. This one was different from the first – it was a confirmation, a seal on the feelings they had just confessed. Their lips met with a gentle urgency, conveying years of unspoken emotions and desires. It was a kiss that spoke of beginnings, of a journey they were now embarking on together.

Eventually, they pulled apart, their smiles reflections of their inner happiness. (Y/N) suggested, “How about we watch another movie?” Her tone was light, but her eyes held a deeper invitation, a desire to prolong the magic of the evening.

Rex nodded, his heart still soaring from their exchange. “That sounds perfect.”

They settled onto the couch, (Y/N) fetching a cozy blanket which she draped over them. As she snuggled into Rex's side, the warmth of their closeness enveloped them, a physical manifestation of the emotional warmth they were both feeling.

As the opening credits of the new movie rolled, they found themselves less focused on the screen and more on the comfort of being in each other's arms. The movie played on, but their attention was on the soft sound of their breathing, the gentle rhythm of their heartbeats, and the warmth of their entwined hands under the blanket.

In the dimly lit room, with the soft murmur of the movie playing in the background, Rex and (Y/N) lay under the cozy blanket, a sense of complete contentment enveloping them. The outside world, with all its noise and haste, seemed a distant memory, irrelevant to the sanctuary they had created here, in (Y/N)'s living room.

Their confessions of affection still echoed in the space around them, a tender yet powerful admission that had changed the very air they breathed. Now, under the blanket, they found themselves in a world of their own making, a world where every glance, every touch, spoke of the deep connection they shared.

(Y/N) looked up at Rex, her eyes shining with unspoken emotions. In his eyes, she saw a reflection of her own feelings – a mixture of wonder, joy, and a profound sense of rightness. It was as if all the scattered pieces of her life had suddenly clicked into place, forming a picture that was more beautiful than she had ever imagined.

Rex, feeling her gaze, turned to meet her eyes. In that moment, words were unnecessary; everything they needed to say was conveyed in the depth of their look. He leaned down, and their lips met in a gentle kiss, a soft caress that spoke of new beginnings and uncharted futures. The kiss was a whisper of promises, a seal on the feelings they had just shared.

As they pulled away, their smiles were reflections of their inner happiness, a happiness that was as much about the presence of the other as it was about the connection they had forged. They stole another kiss, and then another, each one a celebration, a joyful acknowledgment of the journey they were embarking on together.

Lying there, with Rex's arm around her and her head on his chest, (Y/N) felt a sense of completeness she had never known. The sound of his heartbeat was a steady rhythm that seemed to sync perfectly with her own. Every so often, they would exchange a look or a smile, a silent conversation that spoke of shared joy and the comfort of being understood.

Rex, with (Y/N) nestled against him, felt a sense of peace that was new and profound. The weight of his past, the uncertainties of his future, all seemed to fade away in the face of this simple yet profound happiness. He kissed the top of her head gently, a gesture of affection and protection.

The movie played on, but it was merely a backdrop to their own story, a story that was just beginning. Every touch, every shared laugh, every quiet moment under the blanket was a brushstroke in the masterpiece they were creating together.

As the night deepened, they lay there, wrapped in the warmth of the blanket and the warmth of their newfound love. It was a feeling of complete rightness, a sense that, in this moment, in each other's arms, they were exactly where they were meant to be. The world outside could wait; what mattered was the magic they had found in each other's presence, the promise of all the nights and days to come, filled with laughter, love, and the quiet joy of being together.

[therumpus]

The Myriad Worlds We Each Contain: Mini-Interview with Maya Jewell Zeller

By Janet Rodriguez

Maya Jewell Zeller writes poems that glitter, like crystal snowflakes, and land with such beautiful grace you might not expect them to be the swift agents of change they are. Zeller’s most recent collection of poetry, Out Takes / Glove Box (New American Press, 2023), selected by Eduardo Corral for the New American Poetry Prize, is a gift to her readers. Structured in five distinct sections, each containing thematically focused poems, Zeller paints image after image of beauty and starkness, life and death, science and history, motherhood and loneliness. Diane Seuss describes the book as enchanting, where “the vehicles that carry us into and out of imaginative spaces abound.” Zeller’s newest project, Advanced Poetry: A Writer’s Guide and Anthology (Bloomsbury Academic, 2024), is the equally impressive flip side of a proverbial coin. Complementing the creative surface, Advanced Poetry is a college textbook with a diverse canon. Upon closer examination, the anthology is an ice-cutter of college texts, where readers and educators alike are challenged “to push their writing and reading into new understandings and innovations, across varied and inclusive global aesthetics.”

In May of 2024, Zeller was featured at the Lion Rock Visiting Writers Series at Central Washington University, which was broadcast for those of us who couldn’t be there in person. She had recently returned from a month-long residency at the University of Oxford, where she worked on current and future creative projects, a place where she “was also able to rest and gather up energy for the next stretch of work.” 

Through a series of emails, Zeller and I discussed what structure means for a writer, how creativity is sparked through inspiration, and why landscapes inspire her poetry and conversation.

***

The Rumpus: I love how Out Takes / Glove Box takes the reader on a  multifaceted journey through the imagination. When someone asks you what your book is, what do you say? 

Maya Jewell Zeller: I think of it as maybe an avant-garde, indie, documentary film, or a museum with several curated and related exhibits. I really want readers to feel invited and welcome in it, even as the protagonist is very specifically a version or many versions of myself—my girl-self, my woman-self, my mother-self, middle-aged, in the academy, in late capitalism, feeling the extreme othering and splitting effects of the economic over selfhood, as she wills magic back into her life, and defends her rights to her reproductive system and her mind’s way of mapping image and narrative. I’m so grateful to Diane Seuss for her insightful and generous blurb, as well as to Eduardo Corral, Laura Read, and Carol Guess for how they all saw parts of the book that others didn’t—that kind of close reading and validation of what the book is doing as an art space.  It felt like they understood its very viscera.

Rumpus: The five sections of the book contain complementary poems that are also very different from one another. Why did you structure the book this way?

Zeller: I think of the book’s shape as a Wunderkammer or Commonplace book on a self, fractured by contemporary pressures and mended by everyday joys. I often quote Kazim Ali on his own writing of Bright Felon, a hybrid text which he says, “wrote itself out of requirement.” I feel this way about my own organic forms, both in terms of poetic structure and in terms of a collection’s arc. In a lineage with Denise Levertov and Hopkins, I do believe art rises up and out of us and we need to listen to its need for unconventional orders, disjunctive music, and surreal images. EJ Ianelli asked me about this—which he called “difficult poetry”— in a Spokane Public Radio interview back in fall, and I told him that rendering a difficult world into art often requires us to take shapes that fragment narrative. 

In the case of Out Takes, the book’s five sections feel to me like a cabinet of curiosities or a curated set of museum rooms. It begins with a frontis poem, “Field Girl Come Home,” which is both an invocation/invitation from the mud fields, and a documentation of setting in which we might imagine the book takes place. Section 1 follows that [with] a set of poems that are “documentary” and then a series of “out takes” from that documentary—developing the conceit of film, through deep image poetics. Section 2 are all autobiographical poems of the speaker’s self, past and present. Section 3 practices embodied poetics by taking the voice of a persona: a woman who has been institutionalized because she believes she used to be a mermaid. This mythic, lyric imagining, I hope, creates a space in which we ultimately believe women—who are rarely believed, in our imaginary and real worlds—and also follow these women’s emotional truths to deeper understandings. Section 4 is a set of spells, which reiterate the need for magic as a healing space. It also suggests that revision and re-seeing allow us to fully inhabit. This section repeats two versions of one poem—the way the book keeps insisting that more than one way of existing deserves equal space. Finally, Section 5 returns us to a series of outtakes: surreal dreamscapes that pull from the book’s imagery and narrative suggestions and deepen those threads. We are invited to imagine, again, the whole book as a film with a cutting room floor ready for more collage-making.

I hope the book also serves as an invitation to create form, imagine one’s own art and art life as complicated and worth sharing in whatever shape it needs to take, to invent models, to move outside normative expectations for both poetic and book structures and allow the material itself–and our deep imaginative spaces and diverse reading canons—to guide us. 

Rumpus: The language in your poetry is thoughtful, but dangerous. Precise, but deadly. I feel like my skin is being detached from me as I'm reading. What is it about language that can do this? 

Zeller: Detached skin! I love this, and I’m overjoyed that you had that visceral experience. It recalls the well-known moment in Emily Dickinson’s letter to T. W. Higginson: “If I read a book [and] it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. These are the only way I know it. Is there any other way.”  I love that—a feeling so many poets have written about since, and I do not pretend to really understand it—poets, who make art with words, sometimes translate an experience or feeling so successfully that someone else is able to also feel it, across time and space and in another body. That is what I always aspire to, and I’m honored you felt it. 

Rumpus: You began your reading with, “I am most comfortable when I am dissecting a dead cow..." I know I might be misquoting you, but you ended this part by saying, "I want to see the worlds inside of this..." How many worlds does a person possess deep inside?

Zeller: I was reading from my essay, “Scavenger Panorama,” originally published in Willow Springs Magazine and then listed as a Notable in Best American Essays 2023. I like to think that Vivian Gornick and anyone else who read it understood the Joan Didion feeling of being on nodding terms with our past (and present?) selves, the myriad worlds we each contain. I hope that it gives other writers—particularly those who don’t always feel themselves represented in literature—permission to share those worlds, to create space to expand them. 

Janet: How do your inherited landscapes influence your art?

Maya: My landscapes are both coastal and inland, in the Pacific Northwest, as well as probably some percent Iowan (my mother is from Des Moines). I hope that my connection to and love for these various watersheds and home-spaces comes through in the poetry—that it may be riparian and delta and converge and sheetwash and rivulet and soaking wet and barn-roof-beat, as well as ferned and mossed and also logged and fished and mud-rutted and salvaged and repurposed and gritty and glittery and full of tall grasses and flung seeds, hay and scrape and grass-cut legs and rusted gears. I hope it is as beautiful and complicated as the people and plants and animals in these places and the people who pass through, too. I think of other contemporary poets who write of rural spaces with both gentleness and unflinching questioning—poets like M.L. Smoker and Joe Wilkins and Vievee Francis and Kathryn Smith and Canese Jarboe, and feel an unwavering depth of gratitude that I get to be alive and working with language during this time, when the pastoral and antipastoral and necropastoral coexist in our conversations about life and love, on and off the page.

Rumpus: You collaborated with Kathryn Nuernberger to compile Advanced Poetry: A Writer's Guide and Anthology. It’s an ideal textbook: the most inclusive, representative sampling of modern and classical poetry. Is this the reason you traveled to England? What is your dream for this book?

Zeller: It’s always an honor to collaborate with Kate, and we were really thrilled to be able to bring more light to the poets in its pages and moreover, to encourage every person writing to curate their own canons. That, really, is our dream for this book—that it gives permission to poets at all stages of their careers to dream their own ways forward in a web of rhizomatic literary and other ancestries. 

Traveling to England was interesting at this stage in my own academic, creative, and personal lives because while I have genealogical roots in Scotland, and I feel at home in the green and gardens (and mud), my own upbringing was in rust and ravine and logging communities—people of physical labor, and not much “of the academy.” I always feel like an imposter in higher-ed, so I felt this even more at a prestigious school like Oxford, where you wear a formal academic gown to a swearing-in—and then to a dinner. These are beautiful events held in ancient halls and heralded sometimes by a horn and chalices of wine and gavels and by people who represent their fields with joy and depth and sometimes a public bravado and others a real nerdy shyness I find very charming. I want the poetry textbook to feel like all of that for its readers—but the swearing-in to poetry can be a ceremony the poet invents themselves, and the attire anything that feels holy to their own culture and creature, and honoring of their deep personal poetics, from any background or way of being. 

[serenity-unlocked]

Something that is probably gonna interest like 1.5 people at most, but...

For those who might still remember the Boueibu Fanworks Dreamwidth Community I run, I wanna point out I'm starting a new type of monthly post there! I already had the Monthly Rec Posts (which I constantly forgot to actually rec things in myself orz), but now I'm trying to also do these monthly posts where I point towards any Boueibu-specific events that are gonna take place in the following month, AND to any multi-fandom events/challenges where Boueibu stuff is accepted!

Due to it being pretty easy for me to find Dreamwidth events and challenges, and to the fanworks comm being specifically my way of trying to get more of an active Boueibu fandom on that specific site, the post is mainly pointing to Dreamwidth comms on the multi-fandom section. But I can certainly add non-DW events to these if people point me to them!

(So yeah this post is basically me going "if you're into Boueibu and are interested in doing more stuff in Dreamwidth, some of these places might be a good start". The Snowflake Challenge might also be a good starting point! I've definitely found a few cool people to follow through it when I did it in 2023 and 2024. I only didn't link it in that events post because it's more about making general fandom-related posts rather than creating fanworks.)

[aomasade]

Art for Baby to the Rescue

WinterNatural Challenge 2023

Artpost on AO3

Summary: Baby drives through a magical winter landscape to help Santa Claus. The snowflakes dance merrily.

[inherhouseshewaitsdreaming]

Preptober 2023 - Snowflake Edition

Here in the Office we're going to be doing Preptober using the Snowflake method.

What is Preptober? During the month of October, people planning to do NaNoWriMo prepare for the month, getting their story and their lives ready to complete the challenge. The programme is actually 6 weeks long, so this room is going to be a little longer than a month.

What is NaNoWriMo? During the month of November, writers around the world attempt to write 50,000 words of a novel in one month - known as National Novel Writing Month.

What is the Snowflake Method? This is a fiction writing method where you follow 10 steps to get your novel ready to write. The steps all involve gradually expanding and branching your story (sort of like a snowflake). It is the brainchild of Randy Ingermanson.

I strongly recommend buying Ingermanson's book How to Write a Novel Using the Snowflake Method and reading along with it. Its a very engaging read. At first the unusual style in which it was written put me off a little, but after a while I realised I was actually hooked on the story he was telling too (following the journey of the book's protagonist quite closely, which I am guessing was the point). I often struggle to read 'examples' in fiction writing books and the way this book is written overcame that completely.

For this room, I will use the material Ingerman provides for free on his website. I will not add anything from the book, but I will suggest chapters to read if you are also reading.

How will this work? Throughout the 6 weeks of Preptober, I will post prompts to complete two things:

The steps of the Snowflake Method, spaced out according to their length.

The steps of the Preptober course outline from the NaNoWriMo website.

We’ll use the Snowflake Method to cover the first few weeks of Preptober. Because you move around between things like plot and character, we won’t be doing these in order. Below is the the full schedule of posts.

Week 1 (normally idea generation)

18 September: Step 1 (takes about 1 hour)

20 September: Step 2 (takes about 1 hour)

22 September: Step 3 (takes a few hours, depending how many characters you have)

Week 2 (normally characters)

25 September: Step 4 (takes a few hours)

28 September: Step 5 (takes a few days)

Week 3 (normally plot)

2 October: Step 6 (takes a week)

Week 4 (normally worldbuilding)

9 October: Step 7 (takes a week)

Week 5 (normally grow your writing community)

16 October: Step 8

Week 6 (normally find and manage your time)

23 October: Step 9

Step 10 is to write so that will start on 1 November. You can always skip over to Ingermanson's website and find the next steps if you need to arrange things on a different time scale.

[jerzwriter]

Challenge accepted!

Every year, I wobble into January, a little bit disorientated. The holidays are over, it's the heart of winter, it's too dark, and I'm a bit holiday-hungover and full of chocolate and cheese... and you know, that impacts everything, including my writing.

I love what @lilyoffandoms put together so much that I decided to write or create a little something for every day of this challenge. Kind of a mental warm-up to get to a normal place again.

I'm going to post everything here (below the break) to keep track. I hope you'll find something you enjoy before the challenge is over! ❄️

Day 1 - Blizzard, New Beginnings, “The first snowflake fell, and with it, a new chapter began.”

It always starts somewhere... | Crimes of Passion - Trystan Thorne x Carolina Rose [fiction]

Day 2 - Reflection, Resolutions, Letter to future self, reflecting on aspirations for the years ahead.

New Perspective | Open Heart - Tobias x Casey Carrick [fiction]

Day 3 - Sparkle, Winter Magic

Trystan's Holiday Recap 2023 | Crimes of Passion - Trystan Thorne x Carolina Rose, COP Friends & Family [Instagram Edits]

Day 4 - Sanctuary

Escape | Open Heart - Casey MacTavish (F!MC) x Jessica Philips (F!OC) COMING SOON!

Day 5 - Smile, Secrets

"I'll pour... Now tell me more!" | Open Heart - Bryce Lahela, Casey MacTavish (F!MC) [fiction]

Day 6 - Write about a character facing an extreme situation in a frozen wilderness, testing their endurance and determination.

Unnamed fic | Wake the Dead - Eli Sipes x Zoe Rivera (F!MC) [fiction] COMING SOON!!

Day 7 - Reflection

Different Destinations | Open Heart - Tobias x Casey, Jackie Varma [fiction]

Day 8 - Aurora, Dreams

Day 9 - Frostbite

A Tipsy Winter's Tale | Crimes of Passion - Trystan x Caronia [fiction]

Day 10 - Change

Twenty-Five | Wake the Dead - Troy Hassan & Zoe Rivera (F!MC) [fiction]

Day 11 - Starlight, Exploration

Day 12 - Transformation

If the cap fits... | Crimes of Passion - Trystan Thorne x Carolina Rose (F!MC) [art - @/artbyainna and fic]

Day 13 - Whispers, Mystery

Pietro & Azul | Open Heart - Tobias x Casey Carrick (F!MC), Jackie Varma [fiction]

Day 14 - Comfort

Stress Reduction | Open Heart - Tobias x Casey Carrick (F!MC) [fiction]

Day 15 - Illuminate, Journey

Day 16 - Harmony, Relationships, Write about a character’s quest for harmony in a complex or strained relationship.

Day 17 - Rest

PENsive | Open Heart - Ethan x Kaycee (F!MC) [fiction]

Day 18 - Forgiveness, Memory

Day 19 - Renewal, Rebirth

Day 20 - Constellation, Connection

Day 21 - Wanderlust, Adventure

Day 22 - Tomorrow

A Little Mess | Open Heart - Ethan Ramsey, Tobias x Casey (F!MC) [text fic]

Day 23 - Hope

A Different Fate: The Final Chapter | Open Heart - Ethan x Kaycee (F!MC) [fiction]

Day 24- Etheral, Fantasy

Day 25 - Remembrance, Nostalgia

Day 26 - Serendipity, Coincidence

Clucking Awesome! | Open Heart - Ethan Ramsey x Kaycee MacCleannan (F!MC) [text fic]

Day 27 - Luminous, Enlightenment

Day 28 - Reflection

Day 29 - Revival, Rebirth

Day 30 - Cascade, Flow

Day 31 - Beginnings, Starting Over

The Morning | Wake the Dead - Eli Sipes x Zoe Rivera (F!MC) [fic]

[firstprince-ao3feed]

The Elf and the Prince

by Mandulabogesz So it all started when Les Corps Beaux RWRB fan on BlueSky asked for a 1-3-word prompt to write a 100/200-word fic about it. I gave 3 words (Elf-panic-snowflake) but somehow, those 3 words wouldn't get out of my mind. I thought I'd write a 100 words thing in return. But anyone who knows me probably already knows that I can't stop at 100 words. After 200 words, I thought I'd go up to 500. Then I gave up and let my thoughts run wild and didn't stop until 1500 words. PS.: LesCorpsBeaux wrote a lovely story with my 3 words (click to the link) So this is my gift in return Words: 1500, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Alex Claremont-Diaz Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Alex Claremont-Diaz & Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: inspired by my own prompt, I know it's weird, Elf-panic-snowflake, Elf, Alex in elf costume, Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Falling In Love, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Getting Together, First Kiss, Alex Claremont-Diaz Needs a Hug, Bisexual Disaster Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor abdicated Prince, Meet-Cute, No Angst, Short & Sweet, Boys Kissing, Fluff and Humor, Boys In Love, LGBTQ Themes, LGBTQ Character, RWRB AU, Eyelashes, I mean HIS eyelashes, New York, Central Park, Happy Ending, Oneshot Prompts Challenge, Alex Claremont-Diaz deserves nice things, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor is a Nice Thing, i loved writing this so damn much via https://ift.tt/Vyf7gkR

[lesmotsdemoi]

Christine’s Nail Art Therapy

Added a video inspired by @m4g0rtz and a sunlight pic. I had to try to show the fantastic shifts of this stunning polish!

IG challenges: Glam Nails- Snowflakes and 7 Days of Winter Wonder Nails

>>Featuring: Potion Polish First Snow - 2023 Holiday Mystery Set

>>Stamping Plate: DRK Seasons

>>Stamping Polish: Maniology Bam White

[bosooka]

Sabine Week Day 1: Imperial Academy

Helloooooo! It's Sabine Week! WHOO! Here is my fill for today. You can read it below the cut or right [HERE] on AO3!

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: Rebels Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sabine Wren & Ursa Wren Characters: Sabine Wren, Ursa Wren, Tristan Wren (mentioned), Alrich Wren (mentioned) - Character Additional Tags: Sabine Week 2023, Pre-Canon, Canon Compliant, Mother-Daughter Relationship, ursa loves her baby girl okaaaay, LET ME LIVE MY DELUSION THANK YOU Series: Part 1 of Sabine Week 2023 Summary: While away at the Imperial Academy on Mandalore, Sabine receives a care package from her mother.

There was nothing in the galaxy except Sabine and the box in front of her.

It was wrapped securely, cardboard and tape around what Sabine knew was a sturdy wooden chest, her mother’s way to both send her treats and much-needed storage solutions. Utility blade in hand, Sabine pulled apart the layers of packaging until the wood revealed itself, carved carefully with ancient Krownestian symbols, so old they preceded even the arrival of native Mando’a to the planet. Sabine ran her fingers over the patterns, the tiny mistakes etched permanently into the wood. The box was beautifully made, its buckles and hinges gleaming as Sabine turned it over in her hands, but all over she saw, here and there, miniscule imperfections that were not the mark of Clan Wren’s gifted artisans. 

Finally opening the box, she lifted out the piece of folded flimsi on top, labeled with only her name in her mother’s calligraphy.

My blessed daughter,

I am glad to hear you are well. Do not allow the challenge of your courses to intimidate you. You are well-prepared for whatever material they may instruct you in, and your sharp mind will take care of the rest. Take care of your armor; do not let it dry out or let dust accumulate upon its surface, as this will scratch it. It is dishonorable to be seen in scratched armor.

As for Tristan and your father, they are both well. Tristan has begun preparations to swear the Creed. I am sure he will soon write to you with questions about the scripture. As his elder, it is your duty to guide and counsel him. Do not neglect in this duty despite the distance. Your father wished for me to tell you that he is working on a new series of “colorful landscapes”. I am sure there is a great lack of color there in Sundari.

I look forward to your return for the festival season. In the meantime, I hope the gift of this box and its contents will keep home close by.

With love,

Your Mother

Sabine traced the handwriting with her fingers, pretending the paper was still warm from her mother’s touch. There was a strange burning in her chest as she imagined Tristan sitting by Mother’s side, learning to recite the writings of their ancestors while she made Sabine this box, which was as meticulous and imperfect as Mother herself was. Setting the letter aside, she pulled the box into her lap and inspected the contents. There were sweets, of course: hand-shaped wheat candy and snowflake crisps that had likely been made in bulk for the Spring festival. There were also a stack of noodle packages she could cook in her nanowave oven. Beneath them was a small hand-bound book of poetry and a package of colored-ink styluses. Sabine lay it all out around her and frowned. For such a big box, there wasn’t much in it. She set the box down and laid her hand flat against the bottom. It seemed her hand stopped too early—to high above where the floor of the chest should have been. She rapped on it lightly with her knuckles, and it gave a distinctive hollow noise.

Only now did Sabine remember there was another universe around her. She checked that her dorm door was closed and the curtains pulled closed.

“Mother,” Sabine sighed, and grabbed her utility blade again, wiggling it between the wall and “bottom” of the chest until it lifted up. Beneath lay a set of powder packets and a thin bottle, labeled once more by her mother: Red dye. Yellow dye. Bleach. 

Grinning from ear to ear, she wiggled out the small piece of flimsi that lay beneath the gifts.

In case you need more color. - Mama