#thanks so much for being so patient!! <3

[pixelglam]

Housewarming Party in the Hamptons 🥂

Valerie and Robert hosted a delightful housewarming party to celebrate their new home in the Hamptons. The gathering was intimate, with close family and friends filling the backyard of their Long Island property.

Among the guests were Valerie's parents and sister, who made the trip all the way from Vermont to join in the festivities. The afternoon was filled with conversation, laughter, and quite a few glasses of champagne, marking a beautiful beginning of the couple‘s new chapter in the Hamptons.

TikTok

[floating-goblin-art]

comm for @onlyheretolookatthings !!

[endlessartpumpkin]

Hey everyone

I hope you’re all doing well!

I’m sorry for dropping off suddenly, I’ve just been having a bit of a health wobble/not good few months.

I hope to get back and reply to you all soon!

[astaraels]

Simple Gifts

Debbie and Mickey go gift hunting for Ian. It's not as easy as they thought it might be. Set post-s10, in the same continuity as New Traditions and Keeping Warm Against the Cold. For @lovekenney, thank you so much for your patience and I hope you enjoy! (on ao3)

The task at hand had started out simple enough—Mickey needed to get Ian a gift that was appropriate enough to open in front of the kids. Debbie may have been fine keeping her vibrators and dental dams in the room she shared with Franny, but she’d known Mickey long enough by now—and heard more than she cared to about his and Ian’s sex life—to think that it’d be smart to leave him to his own devices. And in fairness, Mickey had come to her, asking for help in his own Mickey-ish way that only a few other people could understand. So after breakfast, Debbie asked Ian if he could watch Franny—she knew he’d never turn down an opportunity for baby-sitting.

“You be good for Uncle Ian, okay, Franny?” Debbie told her daughter. Franny gave her a big hug and nodded.

“Yep! Gonna play outside today!”

Ian grinned at the little girl and scooped her up into his arms, causing her to giggle with glee. “Don’t worry, Debs. Just thought we’d go to the park for a little while, maybe get some stuff to make hot chocolate.”

“Don’t forget-”

“-her mittens and her hat,” Ian finished for her. Debbie might have felt silly, since Ian had always kept an eye on them when she and Carl were younger, but she was Franny’s mom, after all. Frank and Monica never bothered caring if any of them were dressed properly for winter. Doing the opposite of their example seemed like a pretty sound strategy to her.

“She’s got some snacks in the fridge, too. Hot cocoa only if she’s a good girl.” Debbie tapped the end of Franny’s nose.

Ian chuckled and tossed his niece into the air, just a little bit. “Franny’s always a good girl, aren’t you, Fran?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” the little girl cheered. Debbie couldn’t help but smile—her kid really was a good one.

“You coming or not, little miss sunshine?” Mickey asked, shoving his boots on as he thundered down the stairs. Ian’s face lit up at the sight of his husband, pulling him into a quick kiss before Mickey took a full step into the kitchen.

“I’m ready if you are,” Debbie told him, grinning at his lack of grumbling about the very open display of affection. Sometimes it was hard to believe how far they’d come—Debbie still remembered having to storm into Mickey’s old house and practically drag him back to Ian’s side when they were all trying to handle Ian’s bipolar disorder the first time around. He’d been terrified, she knew that now, and sometimes when things got to be too much you just needed someone else to give you that last push to do what had to be done.

Such as now. Not so much because Mickey was scared, not anymore; now it was just him being indecisive. Really indecisive, like nothing seemed to be quite right. And it made sense, at least to Debbie. It was his and Ian’s first Christmas together as a married couple. Of course he’d want to get just the right gift, if what Ian had told her about Mickey’s pre-wedding antics was accurate. Honestly, the mental image of Mickey Milkovich being a bridezilla about his very, very gay wedding was pretty damn funny. She was just sorry that she hadn’t gotten to see any of it.

“Okay,” Debbie said, after they’d gone to what felt like every damn store in the mall. The place was pretty bougie for the South Side, but better than getting some bullshit gift at Goodwill or Costco or something. “Wait—we haven’t been to this one yet.” She grabbed Mickey by his coat sleeve, leaving him no choice but to follow after her. The storefront in question was small and a bit out of the way, almost impossible to spot among all the gaudy Christmas lights that were thrown around everywhere else.

The sign said “Hazel’s Hideaways” in a fancy script, although Mickey barely had a chance to read it before they were inside. The store itself may have been small, but it was crammed full with wood carvings and wood-burned signs; wooden knick knacks of all kinds were displayed on every possible available surface.

“Whoa,” said Debbie as they both looked around. Mickey only nodded in agreement. They stepped around some of the larger pieces on the floor, careful not to fuck up anything that looked particularly expensive. Mickey had some cash left over from his “savings,” at least, so he knew he could afford to get Ian something decent. But some of this shit—like a whole ass deer that came up to Debbie’s shoulder—looked pricey as hell. Not only that, but nothing really stood out to him right away as something Ian might like, but Mickey was not going home empty-handed. Fuck that shit. He would find something for his husband, today, no matter what.

“Hi!” came a cheery voice from somewhere to Mickey’s left, causing him and Debbie both to jump and nearly land on several worryingly expensive-looking items. “Can I help you?”

A very, very short woman about ten years older than Mickey with bubblegum-pink hair sat on a stool behind the checkout counter. She grinned at them both a little too widely, which put Mickey slightly on edge. Thankfully Debbie stepped up to save him; she was way better with people than he was.

“Hi! My brother-in-law is looking for a gift for his husband—my brother,” she explained, like it was no big deal. “But we’ve been all over the place and we can’t seem to find anything that’s just right.”

“Well, I’m sure I’ve got something around there that will be just the thing!” the woman said. She was way too fucking perky, but Mickey nodded his head and clenched his jaw so he wouldn’t say anything too asshole-ish. Normally he’d already be out the door, but this was for Ian. He could put up with almost anything for Ian.

Twenty minutes later Mickey was about ready to hightail it out and call it a loss. They’d been through half of the bubblegum lady’s shit and still nothing seemed right. Even her perky smile had slowly faded—now she just looked all fucking depressed and shit that she didn’t have exactly what Mickey wanted. It wasn’t even really her fault, considering Mickey himself didn’t really know what he wanted, either.

“Hey, Mickey, what about this?” Debbie asked, holding up some weird-looking wooden circle thing. He put down the deer he’d been staring at for the last few minutes and walked over to her, frowning as he tried to figure out what it even was.

“The fuck is it?” he finally asked, giving up.

“That,” said bubblegum lady, “is a family tree wreath. I can customize it with different family members’ names, birthdays, wedding dates…” She gave Mickey a knowing wink and a glance at his wedding ring. He didn’t blush, but yeah, it might have been a near thing.

Debbie clasped her hands together and grinned. “That’s perfect! Ian would love it, seriously.”

“Yeah?” He glanced over at her, and she nodded. Mickey knew how much Ian’s family meant to him. And it also meant that Mickey could have his name right there next to Ian’s, permanently, with their wedding date and everything. And sure, it seemed cheesy and fucking kitschy as hell, but he knew Ian was gonna light up like the goddamn Christmas tree they’d all put up in the living room when he saw the thing.

“All right, little red, you’re the one who knows all five million Gallagher birthdays,” he said. Debbie beamed and gave him a big hug, which only made Mickey roll his eyes, even as he gave her a reluctant pat on the back. These Gallaghers were making him a sensitive bitch. But maybe that was okay once in a while. Not that he’d ever admit to it out loud.

—

Christmas morning dawned cold and bright, the weak sunlight shining right through the tiny opening in Mickey and Ian’s curtains. Mickey could have gone back to sleep, at least for a little while, except for the fact that Franny came barrelling into their room, crowing, “Presents, Uncle Ian! Uncle Mickey!” She jumped up and down, beaming with excitement. “Christmas presents!”

“Your mom up yet?” Mickey asked, barely half-awake. Nothing against the kid, but he’d rather get more sleep, Christmas morning or no. But the little girl was determined, climbing clumsily onto the bed and starting to jump on the mattress.

“She said no presents till everyone’s awake,” Franny told him. “Uncle Ian, wake up!”

Ian grumbled and felt around for the sweater he’d apparently tossed onto the floor in the middle of the night, but still managed to give her a tired smile. “We’ll be up in a minute, okay, Fran?” he told her. “Go get Uncle Carl and Uncle Liam up, how’s that sound?”

Franny giggled, jumping one more time and landing on them both in the biggest hug she could manage. Mickey groaned, the air practically punched out of his lungs, but Ian just laughed at him, the fucker. Then Franny bounced off the bed and scampered out of their room as quickly as she’d run in, calling out for the other Gallagher brothers as she raced down the hall.

Ian said something into his pillow as he rolled over. “What’s that, mumbles?” Mickey asked, shoving Ian onto his back, heart nearly skipping a beat at the sleepy smile his husband gave him.

“Merry Christmas, Mickey,” Ian said, hand going to the back of Mickey’s neck and pulling him into a soft kiss.

“Yeah, yeah, Merry Christmas, Red,” said Mickey, ruffling Ian’s hair to make his bedhead even worse. Not that Ian seemed to mind, though. “Better get up if we want first dibs at coffee.”

Ian shook his head. “It’s Christmas, Mick, you’re supposed to have cocoa, not coffee.” He said it like it should be obvious. Mickey didn’t bother reminding him that his and Ian’s understanding of the holiday were very different—but if his husband said cocoa, then that was what they’d do. Little domestic bitches, indeed.

Mickey had expected Christmas morning with the Gallaghers to be chaotic, and he was absolutely right. Everyone in the house was milling around the kitchen, Debbie handing out mugs of hot chocolate with marshmallows in them, the younger kids ducking under arms as the older Gallagher siblings tried not to spill whatever breakfast they’d managed to scrounge up. Sandy had Franny sitting in her lap and was trying to tame the little girl’s ginger flyaways. Debbie leaned over and gave both of them a loud kiss on the cheek, earning her a giggle from Franny and a soft smirk from Sandy. It was the sappiest look Mickey had ever seen on his cousin’s face, which…well. In Mickey’s own experience, it definitely meant something, coming from a Milkovich.

Finally they were all gathered in the living room, unwrapping gifts and tossing the leftover wrapping paper every which way. Organized chaos—well, disorganized, much as Debbie tried to keep it contained, at least to start with—especially where the kids’ presents were involved. Debbie was the kind of mom who clearly spared no expense when it came to her kid, not to mention Tami and Lip on the other side of the room getting pictures of Fred “opening” his gifts. What that really meant was just Lip holding the baby’s hand pulling paper off some box, but even Ian thought it was cute enough that he took pictures on his phone of every one.

“Here,” Mickey said to Ian as they sat on the couch, squished in next to Debbie and Sandy, watching Franny play with her new Easy Bake oven knock-off. It wasn’t plugged in, thank fuck, but that didn’t stop her from going through all the pieces and parts with ridiculous levels of enthusiasm. Debbie had mentioned to Mickey during their shopping expedition that Sandy wanted to get the kid a BB gun—it wasn’t a bad idea, in Mickey’s opinion, although personally he thought they oughta wait until she was at least six—but that Debbie had vetoed it quite adamantly. Maybe some toy guns were a better idea to start with so she could understand gun safety, at least until she was a little older.

Ian was in the middle of fixing the watch he’d gotten Mickey; he insisted on setting it to the same time as his own, so they wouldn’t have to argue about who was late and who was early. “Oh, shit, I hadn’t even seen this,” Ian said, his eyes lighting up. “Your watch is good to go, by the way.” Not that he bothered handing it over to Mickey, though, as Ian was already pulling the paper off of his gift. Mickey felt his stomach twist almost in a knot—it wasn’t stupid, he reminded himself, it was thoughtful—and Ian’s face split into a wide grin, almost looking astonished as he realized what he was holding. He traced the burned-in names of each of his siblings, ending with his own, his fingers lingering on Mickey’s name and their wedding date.

“Holy shit,” Ian said under his breath, his voice sounding exactly like when he’d turned around in their shared prison cell and seen Mickey standing behind him for the first time. “Mick, this is…” But apparently words weren’t enough, because he leaned over and kissed Mickey, both hands coming up to cup his face. “I fuckin’ love you.”

“Fuckin’ love you, too,” Mickey said, and kissed his husband again. “Debbie helped me pick it out, by the way.”

Ian reached over and gave Debbie a hug behind Mickey’s back. “Thanks for giving my husband a hand, Debs.” His sister grinned at him and elbowed Mickey with a conspiratorial smile before Sandy pulled her into her lap. Franny hopped up into Debbie’s lap, too, causing Sandy to laugh and let out an exaggerated groan. Carl was standing nearby, snapping pictures of them all on his phone with a look of glee.

Maybe there was something to this whole Christmas spirit thing after all, Mickey thought, Ian finally putting the watch on Mickey’s wrist himself. Because as they sat on the couch, surrounded by the people they loved, snow falling outside the windows, Mickey felt happier than he could ever fucking remember.

[slotmachines-fearofgod]

NEXT CHAPTER OF BRICK BY BRICK IS UP RAHHH GO CHECK IT OUT THE WAIT IS OVER!!!

[pencilofawesomeness]

Hey pencil, how are you doing? are you still burned out? I just miss your HTRYDS because it is a refreshing take on FT that addresses things that are overlooked? eg Jellal getting proper help and having a life and relationships outside his past.

Hi! Thanks for checking in! I'm alive, and my writing mojo took a longer vacation than I would have liked, but it started coming back in the last couple of months. Unfortunately, for the wrong things, but I have long since learned that I have to let the happy brain chemicals do their thing on whatever project(s) gave the random inspiration burst before I can reign them in.

I am working on the next chapter of Runaways, and it is coming along, but I'm probably going to wait until I have at least two or three chapters done before I start posting again. To keep the rest of the arc's update time consistent, hopefully. (And if I don't come back with Runaways soon, I absolutely plan on getting out a side story or two for @ft-platonicweek because I have ideas~ :3)

And awwww thank you anon! I'm glad over people enjoy me picking out details of FT I find interesting and under utilized and going ham lol. Like with Jellal—he's such an interesting character, and even more so when he can be relatively stable and not a sad boi incarnate. Not that he's not prime sad boi stick target material but... I digress XD

[taiyami]

(From one of my many sketch pages recently, been torn between commissions, collab pieces and my regular 60+ hour work week .. aha )

I've been cold with autumn settling in, but luckily Hitsugaya is always ready for the cold !!

[kentopedia]

i’m back i got bored of not being able to talk about nanami whenever i wanted

[questionablealibi]

/stumbles, thumps, stumbles again, trips, bumps against cabinet, stumbles yet again, leans against doorway, out of breath/

I'm working on the sona reference sheet again i swear look

That's all thank you,

[shima-draws]

By thee way I am planning on reopening commissions soon! I’m moving out in a couple months so I need to start saving up for the cost of that plus the deposit and all that fun stuff. So keep an eye out ;)

[tvrningout-a]

so a lil quick psa is in order, i feel. starting off, this might be a little tmi? but plainly speaking, my hormones sometimes make my time of the month very challenging emotionally and mentally. i haven't experienced this in quite a while, and i wish i knew what changed or if it's just a random thing i have no control over, but i have no idea sadly! all i know is that i become very prone to bad mood drops and sensitivity, so if i'm extra quiet or inactive, i apologize; i'm just trying to handle myself gently and avoid making this all worse.

with all of that said, thank you for being patient with me <3 it really does mean a lot that y'all put up with my snail-like pace!

[recitedemise]

It's cruel how fate works. When one errs so terribly, wrongs in a way that cuts thorough to bone, they would feel it only in the beating of their heart--but to see it, touch it, is twice as hard. He looks down to his hand, blight-bitten flesh devastated and gnarled. Having casted those spells, his body yowls in protest, and wrapping with care the cracks in his skin, Gale wears, boasts, and bleeds his faults. Curling his hand, blood oozes midnight out his fissures. Smelling the faintest hint of springtime, the wizard at last jolts. Oh!

"Rather light on your feet aren't you?" he startles, looking up from his work. There she stands. Noonlight drapes her in a drusy shawl, and upon the swell of her cheeks, posies vibrant in their color ooze like honey. Quickly, Gale studies her for any wounds left ghastly by those treacherous druids, before finally, quietly, he stops rolling his gauze. "I suppose all the better to avoid trampling those first stubborn growths of the season," he jokes. "I'm flattered, though I'd hardly call myself some delicate orchid. Do try not to sneak up on me. You look well--all things considered."

@appleyed.

[bllakcat]

feeling all giddy again about my lovely mutuals : it feels so good after being away for the weekend to return here, look at you gush about your muses &. just be stunning in every way possible! 🖤

[writesghosts]

imagine writing.

[caredfours]

i'm feeling in a bit of a mood so mayhaps i'll do some writing tonight ! if anyone would like to plot / hc for a lil bit lmk bc i wanna get back to it 🤍

[masquenoire]

WHAT IS YOUR UNDERLYING MOTIF?

The Lightning Rod

Whether it’s your turbulent nature, your flash quick mind, or the air of unknown about you, your undercurrent is the lightning rod. You are somewhat unpredictable, but if we unravelled we’d see you know exactly what you’re doing, but it makes you feel less vulnerable to pretend it wasn’t planned. Some people stay back from you, but others would follow you cross country, for the very same reason. They don’t know enough about you. The difference is in who wants to learn more. Keep your golden nature, it’s exciting, but don’t be afraid to admit what you know. Matshona Dhliwayo said “Lightning strikes but does not roar.” Your bite will always be worse than your bark, keep that close to your chest.

Tagged by: @gnarledbite and @sanguine-salvation (♡) Tagging: @arkhmlcst, @babydxhl, @brokentoys, @defectivexfragmented (for Matt?), @elisethetraveller, @halekulan-i (for Two-Face?), @goldenmedic, @knightlier (for Jason?) and anybody else who'd like to do this??