#anyways enjoy this mostly half-baked art ^^

[drewscrib]

South Park HC’s That Make My Brain Microwave

OMG HI?! Basically hello I’m Andrew, I’m 16 and genderfluid (he/him pronouns). I’m black and have autism/adhd and am hyperfixated on south park and community. 

ANYWAYS. First post and I didn’t feel like posting art so instead I will be posting all my headcanons for the sp kids because I need to dump this somewhere so it doesn’t stay microwaving in my head for forever!! HEEHEE

KYLE

Uses He/Him pronouns and is latino

Biromantic Asexual (Canon ace)

Was born in Jersey and moved to SP when he was 4

Best friends with Stan, close friends with Tolkien

Has a group account on tiktok with Kenny, Stan, and Tolkien but didn't include Cartman because he's afraid of being banned/cancelled

Has a tooth growing out the wrong way

Pretty good at cooking but cannot make anything with cheese for some reason

Mostly wears dress shirts and khaki pants, can NOT dress properly and tries to match everything with his hat

Outgrew his old hat at about 13

STAN

Uses He/Him, half japanese and half white

Likes playing guitar, tries to be romantic with it but sounds ridiculously cringe

Bisexual disaster of a human being

Always supplies the booze at parties and NOBODY knows where he gets it

Hopeless romantic that can't get enough of foreign rom-dramas, and makes Kyle Kenny and Eric watch with him

Cries when he sees stray animals because he thinks they look sad

Has blemishes on the back of his neck and cheeks, picks at his skin absent-mindedly

Has meds for his adhd but forgets to take them

Struggles with homework because reading annoys him

KENNY

He/She/They pronouns, genderfluid and gynosexual, white

Likes baking but doesn't usually have time for it

Has night-terrors of dying, but doesn't die repeatedly like in canon

Has acne on his forehead but covers it with his hair

Has ocd and is genuinely afraid of roaches because he thinks they are a bad omen

Chews his coat sleeves, and he now has bite marks on them as a result.

Likes wearing face masks, huge germaphobe because of how unsanitary his home was growing up

Loves magic and magicians and doesn't give a shit if it's fake or not

Close friends with Butters and bonds over Hello Kitty Island Adventure

MIGHTTT like Butters (he does)

CARTMAN

He/Him, aromantic bi-curious

If asked his pronouns he would say "The boy ones duh."

Isn't as intolerant as he seems, just weirdly uneducated

Doesn't know what aromantic means, but does not feel strictly romantic attraction

Secretly a huge bitch and regularly volunteers at his animal shelter

Actually has Tourette's, but he has coprolalia and most of his tics are phrases repeated by his friends

His mom dresses him for school because he can't properly dress and doesn't know what looks good on him

He's a 'decent' person once he gets older, and starts to look for help after his mom has a breakdown over his behavior (It makes him feel like a shitty person)

Him and Kenny actually bake together when they have the time, but they insult each other and can't ever decided if they should add pot or not

Secretly enjoys watching rom-dramas with Stan

BUTTERS

Trans-fem, He/She, panromantic ace and white

LOVES stuffed animals and only gets stuffed animals for her birthday

Also loves sanrio and wears hello kitty friendship bracelets with the others

Likes singing along to Stan's music when he practices guitar, and hums the sound for each string so Stan can accurately tune it

Plays video games with everyone, but only if she can be a girl avatar while they play

Learns to stand up for herself and becomes closer friends with Cartman once he becomes a bit less of a manipulative dick

Has nightmares about being drowned, him and Kenny sneak to each others house when they have night terrors to calm each other down

MIGHTTT like Kenny (She does)

Fibs to everyone about her eye scar for fun, and when anyone asks her about it she comes up with the most far-fetched bullshit lie just because it's funny

Runs into Cartman by accident because she likes to visit the shelter he works at, starts to visit everyday after to talk with him about cats

CRAIG

Trans-masc, He/They, Gay + Korean

His parents got him more guinea pigs and now he has a 'pig farm'

Fidgets with his hat and chews on the fluffy parts at the bottom

Loves making random foods with Tweek, occasionally makes brownies with Kenny and Cartman

Has no idea why, but has chronic migraines

Autistic and has a hard time fixing his tone of voice to properly express emotions, he also can't stop nibbling at his hands as a stim

Has anxiety, but is better at managing it then Tweek

Very touchy with his friends because he doesn't know how else to show affection and is uncomfortable giving verbal affection

Sometimes sleeps with his binder on by accident, has to be reminded to take it off by Tweek

Teaches his friends Korean but teaches them different words without them knowing it (Example: one time Cartman made him teach him how to say "Fuck off queer" and Craig taught him to say "I love you and I am gay" instead)

TWEEK

Trans male, He/Him, Gay + Hispanic

Drinks coffee more because his parents own a coffee shop

Actually has pretty good parents, they just don't know how to talk to him sometimes

Anxiety and panic attacks (CLEARLY)

Provides weed for every party seemingly out of nowhere (he uses a fake id to buy it from Randy)

Keeps buying Craig guinea pig items because he has a special interest for rodents

Surprisingly good at homework and is a tutor for elementary kids

Bites his lips until they bleed and carries chewlery to stop himself

Wants to be a therapist, but is worried he's too anxious/off-putting for it

Tics less and has more manageable anxiety because he takes anti-anxiety medication

Loves bouncy houses and will not resist going on one when he sees it

I might make another part but it is 4am and I'm rewatching s5 and wanna draw, teehee thanks for reading these rambles

#south park #kyle brovlofski #stan marsh #kenny mccormick #eric cartman #craig tucker #tweek tweak #butters leopold stotch #tw for drugs #they are aged up to about 15-17 cus i'm not weird #also for continuity #i am SO NORMAL AHAHAH #they r so skrunkly!! #the autism #THIS IS SO LONG SORRY

[aristocraticelegance]

March reads. I'm surprised I even got through three this month. I also had my first DNF of the year, which I probably won't record any thoughts on, since I don't have anything intelligent to say about it.

The Closet, Danielle Bobker (Princeton University Press, 2020). I bought a bunch of books from the Princeton University press annual sale; this one turned out pretty good. It does suffer a bit from the problem of stitching together several loosely related research articles, but it was interesting as a history of 16th-17th century closets and their social role. I liked the sections on court favorites/court politics the most. The last chapter tries to link these early closets with the modern concept of coming out of the closet, which was a little half-baked even if it was heading in an interesting direction.

2. The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, John Le Carré (1963/2005). The problem with reading old famous books is that if they're good I start going around like omg have your heard of this?? It's good?? Anyways, newsflash, John Le Carré is a good writer. It's also interesting to see elements that I first encountered in later writers. I would be very surprised if William Gibson isn't indebted to Le Carré in some way. I'll probably hunt down more of his books once I figure out what to read next.

3. Hel's Eight, Stark Holborn (Titan Books, 2023)

I bought this when it came out, and honestly I was kind of relieved to realize I was only a year late in reading it. It's the sequel to Ten Low, which I loved. I probably should have re-read it because I only vaguely remembered how it ended, but Hel's Eight was still great. The two books are a mix of Space Western/Mad Max in space with supernatural horror, or something like that. If you liked Mad Max: Fury Road, you should read these.

Short Fiction

I finally finished New Edge Sword & Sorcery vol. 1, which had some great pieces in it, including "The Pillars of Silence" by Prashanath Srivasta. I mostly read short stories during work breaks, so it can take me a while to get through anything, but I really enjoyed this volume and Vol. 0. It's nice to see a magazine with so much art too.

I also finished issue 143 of Apex Magazine. One of the reasons I don't read a ton of short fic is that my preferred sub genres are pretty underrepresented in contemporary SFF. Apex publishes some good stuff, but I've had a hard time with the last few issues, mostly because of the focus on contemporary-set stories. I did like "Chi Tam is Tired of Being Dead" by Natasha King and the reprints by Eden Royce and Christopher Caldwell.

Finally, I really liked "The Angel Azrael and the Dead Man's Hand" (Peter Darbyshire) in Beneath Ceaseless Skies #339. A Fantasy Western that gestures towards some complex setting/backstory.

#my grandfather is a big john le carre fan #so it's silly that it took me this long #books #my reading #2024 reads #march reads #hel's eight #ten low #john le carre #sff #space western #mad max #short fiction #short stories #sword & sorcery

[milimeters-morales]

Team Red Birthday Parties:

-Peter doesn’t actually want a huge party, but will get one anyways <3 he gets a bunch of practical or homemade gifts bc growing up poor has made him appreciate that stuff more! He, Matt, Wade, Aunt May and MJ and go volunteer and donate to all sorts of homeless shelters and as Spidey he’ll visit people in the hospital (mostly children) <3 if the people know about Spider-Man’s birthday then he’ll try to accept as many gifts as he can even if he doesn’t like them bc he feels like he just can’t say no lol

-Miles probably didn’t tell them his birthday bc it never crossed his mind ever, but let’s say he did. They want it to be perfect, so they won’t risk baking a cake on their own, they’ll either buy one or ask Aunt May to bake one for him. They try to get him a mix of gifts, mostly related to his hobbies and some for Spidey-Activites. The definitely buy him an art tablet though, as an extra in case he breaks the one he got from his parents today. They also show him some spots that he hasn’t even thought to look for so he can have some spaces to throw up his designs if he wanted! They don’t throw him a party unless they know he’ll have the time, bc of course his family is gonna celebrate !! If the public knows about Spider-Man’s identity, he will be called down and offered to pet people’s animals and take so many selfies with them (the animals)❤️

-Matt doesn’t really celebrate his birthday anymore, but he enjoys keeping it simple and chill. Maybe a drink or two with Wade and Peter, Miles describing some art to him and getting coffee/hot chocolate and pastries with him, and maybe some happy birthday cards would be good enough for him. If he’s really happy, he’ll let Peter take on half of his patrol that night bc he knows the others wish he would take more breaks.

-Wade doesn’t care about his birthday whatsoever, but will play it up like “oh wow you’re doing this to me? on my BIRTHDAY?” and “umm i’m the birthday boy you’re really try to gonna kill me? Me??? The Merc with a Mouth, AKA the birthday boy???” lol and honestly he’d do so much regardless if it was his birthday or not but it feels much nicer when the team is with him at an arcade, doing an at-home spa, painting their nails and doing hair (Wade can probably do something to Miles’s hair bc of having to learn to take care of Ellie’s hair) and stuff like that <3 OH and a TON of food gifts. Peter and May bake him sweets, Miles sneaks some food from home he and his mom made and gives it to him, Matt somehow makes the best smoothies EVER. Of course, Miles can’t accompany them to some stuff Wade wants to do like nightclubs, bars, etc. it’s nice bc he knows he’s gonna outlive them all so he wants to spend time and have fun with his friends while he still can

#miles morales #peter parker #daredevil #wade wilson #team red #spiderman #spider man #matt murdock #deadpool #m&amp;m posts

[whumpshaped]

19%. How does your character's living space reflect their personality?

If it hasn’t been asked yet

- @whumpinthepot

please charge ur phone- /lh

rayan's apartment is pretty chaotic, and that's very much who he is in general. clothes on the floor because he forgot to pick them up (said he would pick them up and immediately forgot), instant noodles wrappers because he's a bad and lazy cook, the bed unmade because he was in a rush to work... at least one baking book opened up at a new recipe is chilling on the counter. he'll get to trying it out

sil's living place was always .. semi tidy. there wasn't a lot to be misplaced there, and sil took great care not to damage its own stuff. but they also never rly felt like its own... so it didn't take the time to rly find a place for them. but there was also not much else to do in the basement, so it just kept reorganising stuff.

el's space is an ecclectic mix of all their hobbies and interests. the objects are neat and well taken care of, never forgotten, never damaged, (or fixed immediately and with love,) even if they don't have a "usual place". it can look messy at times but taking one look at their corner of the house would be enough for anyone to tell it's el's. colouring books, plushies, half finished sweaters, SO MUCH YARN, knitting needles, crochet hooks, books, puzzles, colourful papers-

nate's dorm room is VERY tidy. clean. not a speck of dust. it gets messier as the semester goes on and he gets more and more sleep deprived + has less time to maintain a nice space. lots of textbooks, cards from his family, treasured nerdy collectibles

bryce's frat house room is a mess. an organised mess, he'd argue- but no, really, it's just a mess. he somehow still always has clean, freshly ironed clothes for the next day... a mystery. posters on the wardrobe doors, trophies and medals on top of cupboards, a box of condoms on the nightstand. theyre strawberry flavoured

saccharine's living place is also very tidy, because she has people to take care of that for her. she does some cleaning sometimes, because it's relaxing to dust the shelves every now and then, but mostly she just enjoys the serenity of an organised and clean home without having to put in the effort to maintain it. it's a lot of neutrals with surprisingly cosy wooden furniture. lots of wine, house plants to give a warm touch, books on behavioural science, psychology, art, music and culinary stuff (all of which she actually read/used), nice paintings on the walls, framed pictures of precious moments

grace's living space is fucking pink. thats it. thats who she is. reflects her perfectly- ok ok there's a bit of a mess (now hers is definitely an organised mess) and she doesn't like inviting people over and letting them see- she keeps to herself anyway. half empty medication bottles, surgical equipment, a plush cat, the perpetual ticking of a cartoonish clock on the wall, blinds that are at most half open

#man i actually rly enjoyed thinking abt aesthetics #i should give this stuff more thought #thank u #whumpinthepot #asks #rayan #sil #pumpkin baby #nathaniel #bryce #saccharine #grace

[magic-hcs]

Hayo first time asking (as far as I can remember...) and I've never done one of these matches before so I'm down to give it a try and roll the dice 🎲

Let's lay some basic information down with bullet points

-I'm biromantic and asexual (meaning I'm romantically attracted to both men and women but have a very low libedo)

- I've taken multiple quizzes on soul traits, cause let's be real they're fun and 8 times out of 10 I've gotten justice so that's my metaphorical soul trait

- I look good in dress shirts

- I eat a lot

- I'm short (5'3)

- I have both black hair and black eyes

- I'm white (who would have guessed)

- I wear green clothes except for one yellow/brown outfit that a wear for Job interviews

- and finally I would wear rings over necklaces any day, they're just easier to wear

So to continue with my personality I'm on the jokester spectrum, pranks aren't my Forte and neither of puns but I'll say the most out of pocket things that'll catch you of guard and have you rolling, I'm adaptable to people around me so I can mesh with other groups but with complete strangers im a bit shy. When I dislike someone (which mostly happens if the the do something that rubs me the wrong way) I will hold a grudge and it could last years, and finally I have a bad habit of bitting off more then I can chew and then choking as I chew it anyway

Moving on to hobbies after that mouthful, I have a wide variety of randoms I pick up, to mention a few, crochet, sewing, embroider, slideshows, art, coding, baking (I made a fire cheescake), cooking, writing, Pottery, reading I think you get the idea, oh wait, can't forgot mythology (particularly Chinese mythology). You should go to the next paragraph before I take up more of your time-

For my likes I am an avid enjoyed of all things fruit, in particular berries, my favorite being raspberries which are especially good frozen. I love the sky, particularly clouds and stars, my favorite weather is when the clouds are defined in shape and the sun breaks patches through it. Fall is a good season for me as I thrive in cold temperatures, half my friends are convinced I'm cold blooded since my skin is frozen all the time. On the opposite spectrum I like fire, fireworks, hot meals (LASAGNA, hibachi, lo mein and pot stickers) Rollercoasters, fairy lights and dystopia movies and literature.

Finally moving on to dislikes, don't worry it's almost over. I despise sand, it gets everywhere and is a pain in the butt to clean up. I hate it when people act entitled to something or act pompous, and when people make a huge scene in confronting the person in a white knight way, it just rubs me the wrong way.

The end

If you read through all of this gabblygook I commend you on your perseverance so feel free to take your time with this. I'm completely ok with multiple matches and wouldn't mind some polyamory so go as nuts as your creative brain desires

I really like how you did your matchup essay! It’s very creative and fun to read!

~~matching…~~matching~….~matching~~…~DING~

You match really well with Syrup!

✨✨

(US Papyrus) Syrup:

Syrup is a jokester true and through, loves to send you memes and funny jokes and gets excited to find out your reactions. Your out of pocket comments are the highlight of his day.

Hope you don’t mind lots of snuggles and cuddles throughout the day the further you get into your relationship. Syrup is a very touchy boy. Even though you wouldn’t think so when you first meet him and at the start of getting to know him. He’s a bit distant in the beginning but as you get closer he both gets more sand more open and touchy till one day he’s just practically a koala clinging to you. (Not really, but you get what I mean.)

This is also a funny thing, one moment he’s sticking to you like glue and the next he’s retreating to his skeleton cave room for some alone time.

Another funny thing. This boy has no problem hugging, snuggling and touching you but the moment you initiate something he’s a flustered mess. It’s downright precious.

The both of you are in the ‘hold a grudge for a long ass time’ squad. Though Syrup is a bit more petty in that regard. Sometimes you’ll have to put him straight.

(Syrup just because the guy in front of you took the last blueberry ice cream, it’s still no reason to give them the stink eye.)

Hope you don’t mind damsel catching, treating minor injuries or are good at untying stuff, because Syrup is one clumsy boy. He trips over air out of nowhere - don’t worry, Syrup isn’t all that heavy when catching him so no need to be worried about your back - blurts out sentences that aren’t completely English or are a combination of multiple things (for example when he tried to say ‘waffle’ and ‘pancake’ and ended up saying with a serious expression; “do ya still have those waffalapacake?”) He forgets the door wasn’t open and walks straight into it, or gets his clothes or headphone cords stuck/tied up with anything and everything.

Syrup will deadass joke/pun whenever you catch him when he trips. It’s to deflect that’s he’s very flustered because, oh stars you’re so close and, OH STARS YOU’RE HOLDING HIM VERY INTIMATELY, BE STILL HIS SOUL.

One of those jokes is definitely this one : “heh, can’t help falling for you, eh?”

Syrup is in awe at the amount of hobbies you have, whenever he’s just laying around he likes to watch you do your things. It’s just so calming to watch and he loves seeing the process of unfinished creations getting finished. It’s just so fascinating. He will boast about you to his friends and brothers. This is the law. He is just so proud of you and finds you so cool. He once asked you to teach him pottery and he blushes everytime you touch him to guide and teach him how to do it.

You two share your experiences, opinions, advice and tips on coding with each other and help each other out when one of you is stuck. Syrup is very happy he has someone he can geek out with about coding and electronics other than Undyne.

Loves and I mean loves listening to you ramble about Chinese mythology. He loves learning about other cultures and their folklore. You two will definitely bounce off random mythological facts and tales off of each other.

Syrup is not a fan of real life fireworks because it’s so loud, but watching them on a screen is more his style. When he found out you liked fireworks he researched how to make some, so be ready to be surprised by some magic infused fireworks as gifts every now and again. (They don’t leave waste behind nor are very loud or dangerous, so win win.)

Stargazing definitely becomes a thing for you two, Syrup is able to name a few constellations but not many. He knows for example the Puppis and Mensa. And yes exactly for the reasons you’re thinking of. What can I say, Syrup sometimes has a childish sense of humor.

Syrup isn’t one to make a huge scene, he’d rather solve stuff behind the scenes. He doesn’t like having the spotlight on him in a situation. So you’ll be fighting your own battles most of the time, with only a little magic interference from Syrup if it’s getting out of hand.

✨✨

I hope you enjoyed your matchup!

#200 followers matchup event #matchup event #matchup #undertale #papyrus #papyrus x reader #undertale x reader #underswap papyrus #underswap papyrus x reader #underswap x reader #underswap #syrup

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 11/26/2022

Oh, I was doing so well...

this could be permanent you know is very close to completion. I am on the literal last scene of the fanfic. It just happens to be a very long and important scene. I probably would be done now, if it weren't for Thanksgiving, because I had to spend all of Wednesday baking and then Thursday and Friday were mostly taken up with traveling and eating and being social, and now my momentum is in tatters.

I really don't have very much left to go-- I have to finish the scene I'm on, of course, and there were two things that I forgot to put in and want to go back and see if I can, and there is one chapter that I didn't like the ending, so I may see if there's anything I can do about that. Then I have to reread all six chapters and send them to the beta. I have not particularly wanted to re-read my own writing lately, which is a thing that sort of comes and goes. On one hand, when I enjoy re-reading, it wastes a lot of time because I'd rather re-read than write new, but on the other hand, I catch a lot more errors and end up with a much more polished end product.

Anyway, The Work for this week added up to 5444, which is distinctly Not Bad considering how much time I lost to Festivities. I'm really pleased, actually, because I should be able to finish up the actual writing of the thing by or just past the end of November. That leaves me all of December to do Renruki week stuff. I'm hoping the combination of short projects should go well with Christmas hassle (I did put up half my lights today because the weather was nice). I am pretty sure I am going to take up the next part of Heart is a Muscle again in January. Take me home...country roads...to Soul Society...where I belong. I yearn to once again write Byakuya being aggravated by the irksome presence of his lieutenant and also Zabimaru being a gigantic pain in the ass. Anyway, that's looking too far ahead, I gotta keep my eyes on the prize. Hopefully I'll have some fic for you in December!

Oh, also, I have been very neglectful in answering my ao3 comments, and I have not forgotten you, it's just that it really derails my brain to do those, so I've been trying to pound this out and then get back to them. I also closed my asks for the same reason, in case you were wondering. Thank you all for your patience with me, as always!

#writing update #art update

[hirazuki]

Fifteen questions for fifteen mutuals

Tagged by @ruiniel, thank youuuu! (We're fans of Dionysus in this house ♡ And ngl, I've thought about buying that shirt so many times lmao)

Are you named after anyone? Yeah, a saint 🙄 And a... great great-uncle? I think?? The name is peppered here and there in the family tree.

Do you have kids? LMAO hard no from me.

Do you use sarcasm a lot? ... to the point where people have trouble telling when I'm not being sarcastic. Sometimes I have a hard time telling too XD

When was the last time you cried? Hmm. January, when my cat died. I don't cry often, maybe once every five or six years? Maybe longer.

What's the first thing you notice about other people? Their energy/how they carry themselves.

Eye colour? Green-blue.

What sports do you/have played? A bunch for school, soccer was my favorite out of them, but I greatly prefer martial arts (the historical/traditional kind, not MMA/competitive/sparring for points/etc.)

Any special talent? I can recognize a person from their footsteps after hearing them only once.

Where were you born? Greece.

Scary movies or happy endings? Neither, honestly; I don't watch much to begin with, and it's mostly anime anyway. I enjoy adventure or historical (ideally both!), with thematically appropriate endings.

Do you have any pets? Just my sister's :( We used to have four each so it used to be a zoo in here, but now we're down to under half that number; 'tis life. I'm not ready to take on anyone again yet, neither emotionally nor financially given the current cost of living in my city.

How tall are you? 5'6.5'' -ish (172 cm)

What are your hobbies? Drawing, cosplay, writing, swordsmanship; an herb and vegetable garden on the balcony. Inflicting myself on the poor souls that follow me on this hellsite ♡

Favourite subject in school? English, Art, History, Drama

Dream job? Non-existent. I'd like to do something that I enjoy, that doesn't drain me, that doesn't require working insane amounts of hours, and that makes me enough to live comfortably and enjoy my hobbies/me time without worrying about whether I'll have enough to afford groceries and gas. Easier to find a unicorn.

Tagging: @dear-kumari, @mirkwood-hr-department, @saurons-pr-department, @baked-hylian, @nomadicism, @skaelds, @celebbun, @melkors-defense-attorney, @general-illyrin -- no pressure! Do it only if you want ♡

[allalrightagain]

Get to Know Me Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @felixantares 💜 🤍 🖤 Relationship status - single. Still passively hoping someone will marry me for health insurance one of these days Favourite colour - depends on my mood, but dark army green, purple, or grey are usually top three Favourite food - if someone else is making it I will literally never turn down red curry + thai roti Song stuck in your head - I Don't Love You by MCR Last thing you googled - uhhh “beta blockers” to confirm that they’d cause more issues than they’d solve Time - 11:11! make a wish (did I write this at work and then wait to post until I got home? Yes. editing on mobile sucks) Dream trip - I’d love to do an extended Europe trip, either backpacking or, more realistically, rent an apartment somewhere and do weekend trips because I do not have backpacking stamina Last book/fic you read - book was still Gideon the Ninth despite being ages ago I still have hope to get to book two. Eventually. last fic has been mostly WIPs— I'm reading along with HPFC Power the Dark Lord Knows Not by @fantismal and Jormandugr, and keeping up with what's past is prologue by quiettewandering/ @wanderingdream, and snippets from seattle by @thesameoldstreets (which is... technically not a fic? but also not really a book? it's OF and I've been screaming about it all week) Last book you enjoyed - see above! I very rarely finish a book I’m not enjoying Last book you hated - nothing I’ve finished recently, but I do occasionally grab ebook samples of uh, questionable romance novels just for fun. Sometimes they’re very good. Sometimes they’re very very bad. Favourite thing to cook/bake - i love baking! I love tinkering with new recipes to make them better/allergy safe/vegan etc. Not sure I could pick just one, but I have very good vegan fudge, soft pretzel, and pie crust recipes (pie > cake, always) Favourite craft to do in your free time - ooh a bunch! Knitting or bujo, but also I own a Cricut and a lot of fancy pens because that's half the fun Most niche dislikes - I’ve been labelled a very weird picky eater, even without taking the allergies into consideration. I can’t stand spinach or eggplant, truffles (the mushroom), and when I could eat them, bacon and most non-mozzarella cheeses. I also only eat peas frozen or in peapods, or frozen blueberries (sorry this turned into just food lol) Opinion on circuses - I had a weird experience with an off duty clown a while ago that’s put me off of them a bit, but in general my opinion is it’s a very specific performance art, which I appreciate but also it’s not really my thing. Do you have a sense of direction and if not what’s the worst way you’ve gotten lost? - yes and no. if I’m actively paying attention, I can usually keep myself decently oriented, but it absolutely takes effort and intent. But also I can look up and realize I haven’t been paying any attention to how I got somewhere and have no idea how to get back 😅

Tagging: uhhh probably all people who have done it already but I don't care I'm gonna make ask you nicely to do it again anyway. @mkaugust @everythingbutcoldfire @lunapwrites @broomsticks @nanneramma

#obv no pressure if you don't want to #you can tell I was bored at work because I wrote way too much on some of these lol #oh well #ask games #ish #food mention #long post #ish again

[dr3amofagame]

haha your snippit abt the dispenser got me thinking.

Dream gets let out of prison and he talks constantly, whatever is on his mind. And he's positive all the time. To a fault where people walk over him. And it doesn't make sense because he was tortured right???? But after an incident they find out it's because he hates the sound of silence and needs constant reminders that other people are there. Also he was punished for any negative emotions in the prison so his default is happy now,,,

hi anon !! this concept makes me SO goddamn sad ,, the idea that he Has to be happy bc anything else would mean punishment im so *punches the walls*

this ,, ficlet is honestly. pretty ooc, not really related to the ask at all, and mostly an excuse for me to cry abt c!dream and c!punz for an excessive amount of time (technically the vote on twitter was supposed to have this as c!sapnap pov, but i just wrote one for him so i went for c!punz instead. mostly bc i wanted to write him LMAO). hopefully someone enjoys it despite *gestures vaguely* all of that mess

tw: trauma, disordered eating, implied torture/abuse, blood, injuries, unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional distress, thoughts of murder/mercy killing, mentioned animal death, dark content

In the end, it’s all rather anticlimactic, the complete opposite of Dream’s vault and the whole fiasco of adrenaline and theatrics that had made up that day. Quackity ended up having one too many drinks, bragged about the wrong thing to the wrong person - Punz doesn’t know the specifics, only knows that one thing has led to another and suddenly Sapnap was screaming at his ex-fiancé, sword pointed at his chest and tears streaming down his eyes in the middle of the Community House floor, everyone else stood around and watching. A look into Quackity’s office said everything he didn’t - the chests and chests of used and new tools, shiny and sharpened and completely rusted over with blood and everything in between. There’s been a balled up shirt in the wastebasket, completely unsalvageable from how saturated it was with blood, more red than white, and perhaps most chilling of all the calendar, marked with X after X in red pen, going back months and speaking to their utter failure to see what had been happening all but right in front of them.

With Quackity down, Sam caved not too long after, and with his input getting into the prison was no challenge at all. The only thing holding them back were bad memories and the tense, worried edge to Sam’s jaw as he led the small group of them - himself and Sapnap, actually entering the facility, Bad and Puffy waiting outside - carrying them through winding corridor after winding corridor and lava pit after lava pit, until they’d come to stand before a chasm filled with flowing lava, slowly draining before the main cell.

“I- I have to warn you,” Sam had muttered, uncharacteristically hesitant, “it looks…pretty bad,” and Punz would’ve questioned him further, but the lava had fallen far enough to reveal the topmost edge of the cell, so they let Sapnap hound the Warden for information as they directed their full attention on the cell itself and holy shit.

Nothing Sam said could’ve possibly have prepared them for the sight - it was a complete fucking bloodbath, crimson painting the walls and smeared over the floor and splattered over every visible surface like some abstract art experiment gone wrong. The stench of iron and burning flesh and viscera was awful, even over the gap marked by the still-draining lava. Punz strained his eyes; at the very back of the cell, huddled, unmoving, was a similarly bloodstained shape that must’ve been Dream. They remember the crack of Sapnap’s knuckles meeting Sam’s face and breaking his nose, remember themselves chucking a pearl and feeling along Dream’s neck desperately for a pulse - everything beyond that became a swirl of voices and panic and crying that makes their head hurt to think about, so they don’t.

Recovery is…messy. The physical side had been bad enough - pulling Dream out of the cell, barely breathing, limp in his arms and far too light, all Punz could think about was a sheep he’d found a year ago, frail and struggling to breathe, one he’d ended up killing - quick and painless - with a sword through the skull because it seemed kinder than letting it suffer. Watching Dream struggle on the bed, laid up in Bad’s mansion because none of them knew if he’d survive going any further, body resisting the potions they’d slowly forced down his throat after being so over-saturated on them, temperature spiking and heat baking into his skin like the lava from the prison had been imprinted onto his body, Punz feels the same strange mixture of pity and unease, wonders if it’d be a hell of a lot kinder if they just put him out of his fucking misery.

Still, because Dream is a stubborn bastard, against all odds, he ends up surviving - his fever breaks, the potions begin taking effect, and a few tireless, aching days later his eyes flutter open, lucid for the first time in a week. Punz isn’t even in the room when he wakes, only knows that it happens because the too-quiet room suddenly erupts in noise and activity, muffled thumps and sounds of a struggle undercutting Bad’s frantic calls for someone to help, anyone, and they run into the room to find Dream thrashing on the bed, wounds reopened and blood dripping onto the sheets, eyes wild and wide as his head whips from side to side so hard Punz is half-afraid that he’ll straight up break his neck. Somehow, worst of all, not a single scream falls from his lips, nothing but muffled whines squeezing past his mouth, clenched shut, and for a singular, awful second they wonder how long it took before he realized that screaming was useless.

Fortunately enough for them, or unfortunately, it’s not like he can tell the fucking difference anymore, the panic and strain end up with Dream passing out altogether, and they trade uneasy glances with Bad before going to clean off the worst of his wounds. If everything they’re doing feels hopeless, dressing up wounds that’ll be torn open hours later when Dream is awake enough to feel fear but not much else because he’s forgotten what it’s like to not be afraid - well, that’s for them to think and everyone else to pretend not to agree with.

Weeks pass along the same vein - Dream wakes up, panics; they try to calm him down, fails; he falls back into unconsciousness, and they move on and pretend that they’re cleaning up wounds from battle and not from someone that’s literally been tortured for months on end. People stop by, occasionally; Puffy spends more time than not inside the mansion, but hardly ever enters the door into Dream’s room, Sapnap and George drop by occasionally with potion brewing supplies that the rest of them can’t go out to get; once, he’d gone out to the front door to find a chest with an enchanted golden apple, sender nowhere in sight. He knows that the server is busy; Quackity’s admission had brought more than a few secrets to light, and from what they understand, the political fallout has been pretty damn messy. Still, he stays in the mansion, and watches.

He doesn’t exactly know why he stays. They’re not a stellar healer, not beyond what they know to dress their own wounds, and spend most of their time doing odd-and-ends tasks for Bad, who looks more tired than ever. Maybe it’s because he’s seen Dream at his worst more than the rest of them, had been there through his entire fall from grace, watched as his eyes became clouded with anger and madness and a single, desperate hope that he’d chased at the cost of his world and himself. Maybe it’s because they have no ties to the rest of the server - not to Las Nevadas, falling apart under the scrutiny of the eyes that now fall upon it, not Snowchester, caught up in the chaos, not the Badlands, half-dissolved after the fiasco of the Egg and with Sam’s actions having just come to light. Maybe it’s because above everything else, he feels guilty.

They’d thought the prison was the answer. It’d seemed too simple, back in that Vault - a perfect answer, because everyone else was perfectly happy to watch Dream die another time and some part of them had clenched painfully at the thought even thought they knew it was for the best. The prison meant that he’d be alive, if angry, and at some point when he had the time or the nerve or the guts he could go and visit, and they would talk, and Dream would be angry but with time maybe he could even understand.

They hadn’t wanted this. He can’t imagine anyone wanting this.

“Punz?” They don’t jump at the voice at their back, they don’t, but Bad still has a tiny, tight-lipped smile when they turn around anyway, eyes creased in the corners and still not as bright as they’d been before the Egg. Bad looks at him knowingly, setting a bowl of soup into his hands. “For Dream, if you can get him to eat.” He shifts a pointed gaze towards the door. “Maybe you two could talk.”

“About what?” The words come out harsher than they intend, and they take a moment to bite back the mostly self-directed anger that Bad doesn’t deserve to receive the brunt of. “I just-” he waves his hand in the air, trying to articulate the mess that is his relationship with Dream without the words to explain it. “I don’t know, man.”

“You don’t have to talk about everything,” Bad says, calm as always, eyes flicking down to the bowl of soup in his hands. “Just start with the soup.”

Punz sighs. “I’ll try.”

He enters the room in a single, fluid motion, mostly because he knows that if he were to stop at the door then he’d never actually make his way in. Dream flinches back when they enter, eyes going wide and stance going rigid, and the familiarity doesn’t make the sight any easier to bear as they wait, as always, for Dream’s eyes to clear enough for him to realize he’s in the mansion and not stuck in that same obsidian hellhole.

“I brought soup,” they say, finally, when Dream looks up. Dream’s lips twitch up in what he probably means as a smile; between the still-healing gashes on his face and the fear that flashes over his expression, still, it comes out as more of a grimace.

“Thanks.” Dream looks away. “I’ll eat it later.”

Liar, Punz thinks tiredly, moving closer to set the bowl down on the nightstand by the bed. They frown as Dream’s expression goes slack and distanced, again, eyes fixed to stare blankly at the wall once again.

“You should have some now,” he tries, careful to keep his words even. “You need the calories.”

“I’m good,” Dream says, automatic, just shy of sincere. “Thank you.”

“Dream,” they don’t quite succeed at keeping a displeased sigh from falling from their lungs, and bite back a curse at themselves when Dream pulls back with a silent flinch. It’s so goddamn hard, to talk to this version of Dream, both of them feeling around the edges of their relationship like walking on goddamn eggshells. A few months ago, he would’ve straight up called Dream out on his bullshit, get it through his thick skull that the whole ‘I’m fine and don’t need anyone’ act was stupid and completely failing to convince him. Here, they bite back another sigh, look forlornly at the bowl of the soup on the nightstand, sure to go uneaten once again, and force themselves to sound completely neutral when they speak again. “Alright. You’ll have to eat at some point, though.”

“Mmhm,” Dream hums noncommittally, once again staring at the wall. Punz stares at his hands. This is so fucking pointless.

“So,” they say after a few seconds, Bad’s words echoing in their head - they can try to make an effort to talk, sure. It’s just that Dream’s not going to cooperate. “How are you, man?”

The words come out stilted, awkward. He looks up to watch Dream’s expression, as the other man begins to gnaw on the inside of his cheek.

“I’m good,” he says, words deliberately light. “You?”

“Dream…”

“I’m fine.” Dream’s voice sharpens suddenly, breath hitching, before he shakes his head and turns his head away. “I’m fine.”

Punz looks at him incredulously. “Are you serious? Do we need to get into exactly how not-fine you are?” They wave a hand in his direction, jaw clenching when he rears back. “Do ‘fine’ people lose their minds from someone waving at them, now?”

“I-” For a second, Dream glares at him, eyes burning with a familiar, irritated fire that Punz knows all-too-well from having it directed at him a few too many times, before it suddenly dies and Dream is swinging his head back to the bedsheets, hands tightening on the cloth as he stammers. “I- What do you want?”

Punz breathes a soft sigh, regret blooming in the center of their chest. “Sorry,” he mumbles, careful to keep their gestures overly-telegraphed and away from the other man’s face. “I’m just- you’re not okay, man. No one’s expecting you to be okay after...all of that.”

“But why?”

Dream’s voice is small, nearly a sob, and Punz directs wide, alarmed eyes to where he’s hunched in over himself, knees pulled to his chest, hands staring at the sheets pulled over them. “Why?” he says, again, quieter, lip trembling slightly.

“Because you were tortured,” Punz begins, words slow as they watch Dream’s expression, trying to pull out the thoughts behind his averted eyes, “Because the cell was inhumane, and nobody deserves to be treated like that. Because you were hurt very, very badly because of what we did, and none of us are expecting you to be fine right after going through months of trauma.” He pauses. “You know that, right?”

“But I’m out,” Dream says, quiet, disbelieving, instead of answering their question. “I’m out of there. It’s over. It’s- everything’s good,” he whispers, more to himself than to them, hands curling into fists and then uncurling. “I’m- they said I would never get out. And I’m outside, and it’s not- not the cell, and I get real food, and Quackity doesn’t visit anymore,” he shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut as his breath catches in his throat. “I’m happy- I should be happy. Right?”

“Oh Dream,” the other man flinches back, breath quickening, and Punz’s hand stops short from where he’d almost let it fall onto the other’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be happy, man. Not- not after all of that. Not if you’re not ready yet.” Dream’s eyes, wide and wet, rise to look at their own, and they feel more than hear the soft, wounded noise that leaves their lips. “It’s ok to be hurt. It’s ok to be scared. No one’s blaming you, alright? No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

This, more than anything, seems to be the breaking point, because Dream collapses forward, hands flying up to pull at his tangled hair before Punz manages to ease them away and into his own hands, watching as he grips onto them until his knuckles go white. His breathing shudders, quiet, even his sobs muffled as to make as little noise as possible, and they murmur meaningless croons and hums as he cries into their chest.

“I wanna- I wanna be okay,” he hiccups, and Punz smooths his hair back behind their hand.

“I know,” he swallows around the lump that has risen in his own throat. “I’m sorry.”

#tw trauma #tw disordered eating #tw torture #tw abuse #tw blood #tw injuries #tw unhealthy coping mechanism #tw emotional distress #tw murder #tw animal death #tw dark content #tw unhealthy eating habits #-> my writing #my writing :D #my asks !! #-> my asks

[robininthelabyrinth]

Hello! I saw a post that said your prompts are open, but if they’re not yet, please don’t worry about this. Anyway, if you’re interested, please take this ‘Wen Ruohan appoints Lan Wangji his next heir with being 1) impressed by him, or 2) bested by him’ Lan Wangji is less than thrilled about this

Modern AU

“I hate this,” Wei Wuxian grumbled. “This is so dumb.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to enjoy being kidnapped,” Jiang Cheng said, his arms crossed over his chest. He was scowling. He hadn’t stopped scowling. Nobody blamed him one bit. “It’s not like it’s something that gets advertised in travel brochures or anything.”

“Listen, if it was like in the movies, it’d be one thing,” Wei Wuxian argued back. Lan Wangji suspected he was just arguing in order to hear himself speak, but since Lan Wangji also enjoyed hearing him speak, he didn’t mind. “Getting snatched into a van! Taken to a mysterious secondary location via plane! Villain monologues! Handcuffs! Zipties! Ropes! Chains!”

Lan Wangji wondered if Wei Wuxian had a thing for bondage. He would be okay with that.

Very okay with that.

“Wei Wuxian…” Jiang Cheng started.

“But noooooo, we don’t get jungles or the ‘most dangerous game’ or sexy people in skimpy swimsuits –”

Lan Wangji had a bathing suit. It wasn’t that skimpy, though.

“- we just get kidnapped by a deranged politician who’s decided that the best way to figure out who deserves to be his heir is via a stupid reality show!”

“I think it’s based on the Apprentice,” Nie Huaisang said from where he was sitting. “Possibly the Bachelor? I actually don’t watch that much reality television.”

“You watch the Great British Bake Off like a fiend,” Jiang Cheng pointed out.

“First, Great British Bake Off doesn’t count. Second, if this was a bake-off, your sister would win, instead of not even being here. Is that what you want?”

Both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian shuddered.

“So, we’re all in agreement that the goal is to lose, right?” Wei Wuxian said. “No one actually wants the job of being Wen Ruohan’s heir, right?”

Nods all around.

“Doesn’t he have kids already?” Jin Zixuan wondered.

“Wen Xu and Wen Chao,” Lan Wangji said shortly.

“…yeah, fair, I’d be looking elsewhere too. They’re pretty awful – dumb and dumber. But surely there’s someone else in the family…?”

“I think they’ve been disowned. Anyway, who would want power if it means putting up with Wen Ruohan?”

Nods all around a second time.

“How will this work?” Nie Huaisang asked. “Are there, like – contests?”

There were.

Stupid ones.

Lan Wangji did his utmost best to mess up the archery competition – archery? In this day and age? – but he wasn’t quite willing to turn around and wildly shoot backwards the way Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were doing, if only because the possibility of collateral damage made him shudder. He focused his arrows on a small corner just outside the target.

(Nie Huaisang’s arrows impressively did not reach the target even once. When asked how he had managed to pull that off despite being closely monitored to make sure he was actually trying, he proudly pointed to years of practice in fucking up his brother’s efforts at getting him to train.)

Lan Wangji was also incapable of getting a low score in the calligraphy competition, although Nie Huaisang shared in his misfortune there – being an artist did not necessarily translate to good penmanship, but in Nie Huaisang’s case it did – and naturally no one could quite compare to the atrocity that Wei Wuxian had created.

“It’s still recognizable as words, in my view,” Nie Huaisang declared after several minutes of close study. “So it should be fine to submit…you should really consider taking up abstract art, though. It’s quite nice, from that perspective.”

“Thank you,” Wei Wuxian said. “I think. Or was that an insult?”

The mathematics segment was even more disastrous for Lan Wangji – his uncle had brought him up with a strict prohibition against lying, including on test answers – and then they’d brought out music…

They didn’t even give Lan Wangji a chance to sabotage his chance, opting to just play a Youtube clip of one of his public performances on the guqin.

He was very, very good at guqin.

At least they’d done the same for Wei Wuxian and his flute – he ended up getting ranked first in music, even above Lan Wangji – but that wasn’t going to be enough to overcome his middle-of-the-road performances in the other subject.

“I think you’re going to win,” Jiang Cheng told Lan Wangji. “I’m very sorry. Seriously, and without sarcasm: I’m very, very sorry.”

Lan Wangji said nothing, but apparently his face managed to convey his misery effectively enough because Wei Wuxian came over and gave him a hug.

Lan Wangji enjoyed the hug, at least.

“Don’t worry,” Nie Huaisang said. He was fanning himself again – where did he even get a fan? Lan Wangji thought all three of the ones he’d seen Nie Huaisang pull out of his pockets had been confiscated, and surely there was a limit to how many “back-ups” a person plausibly needed – and reclining under the shade, having been thoroughly knocked out of the running during the physical portion of the competition. He hadn’t even had the courtesy to be concerned: he was, as always, secure in his uselessness. “We’ve been here for quite a while, haven’t we? Our families will be along soon enough to pick us up, and then we can forget all this.”

“What if they can’t, though?” Jiang Cheng said, wringing his hands. “I mean, we all hate him, he’s awful, yes, but he still has influence and power, for some unknown reason –”

“I still can’t believe there are people who support him. Least of all nearly half the cultivation world!”

“Less than half. Remember, we just counted.” 

“Yes, yes, I know, but still. Regardless, don’t worry – it’ll be fine.”

“Surely if our families were going to do something, they’d be here already?” Jin Zixuan asked.

Jiang Cheng pointed at him. “See? Even the peacock is worried!”

“Also, what if Wen Ruohan wants to keep Lan Wangji as his heir even after we’re rescued?” Wei Wuxian wanted to know. He looked worried, which Lan Wangji appreciated. “Listen, my future boyfriend and I are not going to live somewhere named something as classless and pretentious as the, and I quote, ‘Nightless City’, okay? I refuse.”

…future boyfriend?

“The Nightless City is a perfectly decent name,” Nie Huaisang said. “For a Bond villain. Which I’m not convinced Wen Ruohan isn’t.”

Boyfriend? As in – romantic partner boyfriend?

“A Bond villain wouldn’t be this stupid,” Jiang Cheng argued.

Wei Ying’s future boyfriend?

“I dunno,” Wei Wuxian said. “There were some real stinkers, especially in the 70s…”

Did he mean Lan Wangji?

“Can we get back on subject?” Jin Zixuan wanted to know. “Lan Wangji is on the verge of being selected to be Wen Ruohan’s heir, and I’m not sure that process doesn’t involve brainwashing at some point.”

Wait, why was it future boyfriend? Couldn’t they be boyfriends now?

“I would fight them first,” Wei Wuxian declared. “All of them. Immediately!”

“Or we could escape. I know the guards took our cell phones, but I pickpocketed Wen Zhuliu’s and the GPS says we’re actually just at a warehouse outside the city.”

“We’d need a distraction, though…”

“How about we release the giant turtle?”

“Wait, that thing in the moat is a turtle? I thought it was a snake.”

“I don’t know why you expect me to know anything about amphibians.”

“It’s not – they’re not even remotely – a snake has no legs! What is wrong with you people?!”

“Unrelated, but has anyone noticed that none of the girls got brought in? Isn’t that sexist?”

“Like Wen Ruohan being sexist is a surprise –”

“I still think we need to do something before he tries to adopt Lan Wangji –”

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” Lan Wangji asked Wei Wuxian, who blinked at him, and then beamed. “Or maybe make out in the corner while everyone’s arguing?”

That seemed like something they’d both enjoy.

It was, too, right up until someone did unleash the giant turtle, at which point it was mostly screaming and splashing and all of their families coming to their rescue at just the right time.

But Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were dating now, so overall, a good experience.

Well, mostly. Wen Ruohan sent him countless letters for the next two months asking him to consider coming back for an internship (to be paid in "experience" and "exposure", of course).

Lan Wangji burned them all.

#mdzs #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #jin zixuan #lan wangji's hormones #they get a special mention as a character #my fic #my fics #staringatstarsblog

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

1D Monthly Fic Roundup

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for August 2021! Below you’ll find 23 One Direction fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​.

Happy reading!

He Carries The Key by @lululawrence

[Niall/Louis, OT5, 8k, Not Rated, tumblr post]

Niall was mostly home, ready for a shower and a chat with Louis, when suddenly Niall was flooded with emotions from the pack bond.Shock. Surprise. Confusion.But mostly fear.Something was wrong with Louis.

Plus One by mynameispiaivy / @missrefridgefreetorator

[Louis/Luke Malak, 3k, Mature, tumblr post]

Louis is invited to an event and he has to bring a "plus one".

Better Mistakes by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10

[Harry/Louis, 117k, Explicit, tumblr post]

“Look, this doesn’t have to be the end of the world-”

“Oh but it fucking is,” Louis said, shaking his head. “How the fuck am I going to tell Matt I’m pregnant with a baby when we’ve not had sex in months? He might be a bit thick sometimes, but he is gonna know there’s no chance this baby is his.”

“You don’t have to, uh, tell him it’s mine, right?”

Louis scoffed. “Why, are you scared he’s gonna come and kick the shit out of you?”

“He wishes,” Harry laughed, looking back down at the test. “Shit, I … I can’t believe this. Louis, I didn’t mean for this. Honestly. It was just sex for me. We have great sex, and I didn’t see why I should have to turn that down, not when you clearly wanted it as much as I did. I didn’t want this to end in a baby.”

Louis knows he shouldn’t be sleeping with his boyfriend’s enemy. He knows that. But there’s something that draws him back to Harry over and over again. Falling in love wasn’t part of the plan...

Thou, Sun, Art Half As Happy by @lululawrence

[Louis/Harry/Nick Grimshaw, 7k, Not Rated, tumblr post]

Hello, I’m sorry if this isn’t a post that is allowed on this channel, but I was hoping for the best since it is regarding a photography project I’m working on at the moment. I’m working on a set of sunrise kiss photos and therefore am needing a willing kissing partner. I’d hoped to be able to provide one for myself, but it hasn’t panned out, so here I am! I was hoping to find someone here, since I know most of you (at least peripherally) and can generally vouch for you not being creeps. Plus this way I know you will understand needing to continue to tweak the camera settings and reshoots etc that others might not.

Anyway, I’m looking for someone who identifies as male or male-ish (sorry, ladies) who is between the ages of 18 and 40. I’m a 29 year old male-ish myself, for those who would like to know before replying.

If you’re interested and are free the early morning of August 7th and would like to kiss in the sunrise with me for the sake of some (hopefully) interesting and fun photos, let me know via DM and I’ll give you the location.

OR the one where Louis needs a kissing partner, two show up, and it all might turn out for the best that way.

call my name and save me from the dark by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Louis/Harry, 4k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]

“I don’t know if it was a nightmare,” he confesses to the ceiling, the darkness making it easier to speak up even when he still has to close his eyes to stop himself from tearing up. “It feels more like a memory. But it can’t be.”

Harry shifts, and Louis can feel his chin perched on his chest, doesn’t need to look at him to know that Harry’s studying him. “Why?” He prompts, when Louis doesn’t immediately continue, and Louis swallows, tries to shrug off the apprehension, the fear that Harry will think that he’s gone mad.

“Because I heard them pronounce me dead.”

Feels like home by @neondiamond

[Louis/Harry, 2k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Louis comes home from work with an exciting surprise. Daydreaming and celebrations ensue.

this is my jam by @disgruntledkittenface

[Harry/Louis, 4k, Mature, tumblr post]

The guy’s eyes are so blue that Harry can’t tear his gaze away, even as he moves to the beat. The searing light shade is magnetic; he finds himself leaning in and yelling, “This is my jam!” only to earn a laugh from thin pink lips that Harry’s definitely going to be dreaming about tonight.

“Your jam?”

When the guy yells back over the music, his blue eyes sparkling and his lips twisted in a smirk, Harry’s chest literally puffs out with pride at earning his attention. His obvious approval. Tongue-tied, Harry nods and closes his eyes as he lets go, the music reverberating around them. All of the usual inhibitions that keep him in the corner at parties fall away and he bounces around the center of the dance floor, waving his arms above his head. Somehow his towel stays on, even as he starts to think he wouldn’t mind if it fell off. Fuck it. He finally made it here, he’s damn well going to enjoy it.

Harry goes to a gay bathhouse for the first time. 90s AU.

I Know My Arithmedick (2 + 2 = 4sum) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

[Harry/Louis + Louis/multiple partners, 3k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Harry wants to watch Louis fuck someone else. Louis loves giving Harry what he wants. It’s simple math, really.

doG…and his friend by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright / yeah_alright

[Louis/Harry, 3k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]

When Joan has to move out of her small, nice home and in with a random roommate, she obviously brings her dog/boyfriend, Doug, with her.

Doug makes a friend. And maybe more.

I Heard You Talking by @lululawrence

[Louis/Harry, 10k, Not Rated, tumblr post]

It had been an hour of their noise that Louis had been dealing with, and for some reason the fact that these grown men were being this rowdy in the quiet carriage over a game of Uno was the breaking point for him. He stood up and turned around, making his way down to where the group of five were somehow gathered around a table.

Louis stopped at the table and cleared his throat, mouth open and ready to politely request they keep it down when the man who was sitting with his back to Louis turned.

He was stunningly gorgeous.

Blinking a ridiculous number of times in an attempt to pull himself together, Louis coughed and spit out, “This is the quiet carriage.”

God, he was nearly forty and that was the best he could do in front of a set of pretty, green eyes?

Or the one where Harry is famous and Louis doesn't have a clue. Good thing his son is able to help him out.

All That You Need by @haztobegood

[Louis/Harry, 2k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Pre-heat was always one of Harry’s favorite times to spend with Louis. It was a time to rest up and indulge in extra cuddles, like basking in a ray of sunshine before having to dive off the deep end. Louis lavishes him with tender touches and soft kisses. Harry wants to savor this time as long as possible. The unquenchable need will come later, but for now, his desires are simple. He just needed to be closer to his alpha. As close as possible.

sickly sweet fonding by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

[Louis/Harry, 1k, General, tumblr post]

A few members of their crew start piling up the dirty dishes and taking them over to the sink. Harry walks around the cameras, and smiles brightly at Louis.

“What do you think, Lou? Do I have it in the bag?”

Louis eyes a bowl of bright pink lumpy batter being cleaned from Harry’s side. “Of course you do.” He wraps an arm around Harry’s waist and steers him away, all while ignoring the dramatic gagging Niall is doing. He doesn’t think it’s just the batter making Niall gag.

or the one where Louis fonds over Harry's horrible baking skills

Fractured Moonlight by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

[Louis/Harry, 1k, Mature, tumblr post]

Louis huffs because he doesn’t want to deal with this. “Listen, I appreciate your concern.” He doesn’t. “But it’s not your duty to look after the sad man at the bar. Okay?”

'Ere comes the milk by stretchmybones / @onlyfor-thegays

[Harry/Louis, 1k, Explicit]

Louis is obsessed with Harry's mommy milkers.

everything comes back to you by stretchmybones / @onlyfor-thegays

[Louis/Harry, 8k, Explicit]

Harry and Louis are childhood best friends. What happens when Harry has to move towns just as they are starting their secondary gender presentations? What happens when fate brings them back together years later in the most unexpected of ways?

He Still Takes My Breath Away by @parmahamlarrie

[Harry/Louis, 32k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]

Camp Infinity is the perfect place for a lot of things; hiking, swimming, sports, eating, and falling in love. Harry Styles is a bit too familiar with the last one from his years of being a camper. This year things will be different. He’s 21, a grown man now, and ready to see Camp Infinity from a different point of view; working as a lifeguard. However, his whole summer turns upside down when a familiar British lad makes his return into Harry's life.Or the one where Harry is a lifeguard and Louis is the head of recreation. And, sometimes, you just need a little push to realize what was right in front of you the whole time.

Also known as – The Summer Camp Fic

tread lightly on my ground by fairytalelights / @lookslikefairytale

[Louis/Harry, 20k, Explicit, tumblr post]

No, that's the tragic part of this, the part that makes Harry feel like the universe is playing a cruel joke on him. The father of his baby is exactly right, exactly who he always imagined himself having kids with. He just imagined them married, bonded. Happy. He didn't imagine them barely talking, tip-toeing around each other because neither of them is brave enough to talk about what happened between them. He didn't imagine the father of his child not loving him back.

or, the one where Harry is having Louis' baby, but Louis doesn't know it's his.

Getting a Head for Heights by @ladyaj-13 / LadyAJ_13

[Louis/Greg James, 3k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]

The problem is, Louis thinks Greg would be quite good to date, so it would really help if everyone would stop reminding him of that fact so he could unthink it. He’d be a gentleman, at least until Louis talked him out of it, and he’s funny and nice and hot and they’re both into music and football and drama. He’s also a freakish giant of a human, and the problem with dating is that sooner or later you have to stand next to each other.

We Go Together (series) by @beelou / cherrylarry

[Louis/Harry, 3k, General, tumblr post]

A grease au

Hot Boy Summer (series) by @louisandtheaquarian / zita17

[Harry/Louis, 35k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]

Louis is an overworked bartender hoping to save up enough extra tips to buy a new air conditioner before he literally melts during a scorching NYC heat wave. Harry is the new neighbor that wakes him up by moving in his sole day off at 6am. An NYC enemies to neighbors to lovers AU featuring a rickety fire escape, the 2021 Euros, Lirry bickering like a divorced couple, and enough OT5 clichés to rot your teeth. (If Harry's pastries don't get them first.)

across the river is where my heart is by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 8k, General, tumblr post]

The first time they see each other is when they are toddlers, playing out in the yard. Louis remembers sitting on the perfectly trimmed lawn and getting yelled at for picking at the soft blades of grass; she remembers looking over, across the narrow but deep and wild river, and watching another little girl, out in a different garden, picking flowers for her mother.

She remembers carefully raising her hand and waving—her little heart beating hard in her chest, as if she had done something dangerous, something forbidden, even though back then she could not understand the true divide the River made amongst them.

bright eyes, blue denim by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 2k, General, tumblr post]

Louis' favourite jeans have suddenly disappeared from where he always got them. Harry is a store manager with an affinity for customer care, particularly when the customer has bright blue eyes and happens to be very flirty.

whatever you feel like doing in this moment by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Harry/Louis, 2k, General, tumblr post]

Louis gets all that he's ever wanted during his favourite game at their group's weekly improv show.

#28th appreciation #tracksintheam #trackinghome #trackinghappily #1dsource #one direction fan fic

[tippenfunkaport]

Did you ship Glimbow from the beginning?

Short answer:

Ehhh... not exactly, but there are reasons for that

Long answer:

The first thing you need to understand about my first viewing of She-Ra is that I watched it with my kiddo from the start, right away as each season aired. This was very fun and I LOVED that I had it to share with her but it also meant that between answering questions and her randomly talking and interrupting I maybe got to hear only about 30% of the dialog and could only half pay attention. So while I got the general gist of what I was watching and enjoyed it, I missed A LOT on that first viewing.

The second thing you need to understand is that I was not involved in fandom at all. So I suspected Catradora would be a thing even before I watched (because I was a big fan of the works of Noelle Stevenson going in and no one is ever straight in those) and the only mystery there was whether it would be explicitly canon or just implied. But, beyond that, I was just vibin’ as the youths say.

Except… Many of my IRL friends were into the show and so I would occasionally see fanart or posts that they were interacting with. Shortly after Season One aired I saw art of Bowfuma and clicked on it surprised that people shipped Bow with Perfuma and not Glimmer, which seemed more obvious to me (mostly bc I loved both Bow and Glimmer as characters so much). What I found was people dogpiling on the Bowfuma artist, telling them that Bow was canonically gay, that the fight he had with Glimmer at the Princess Prom was him coming out to her and it was offensive to ship him with a woman, they needed to respect his canon sexuality.

Now you and I know now this was a load of absolute nonsense but, keeping in mind the two things above, at the time I read this in good faith and assumed I had just missed this coming out scene (not surprising as I was missing a lot bc of my small viewing companion). It made sense to me that Bow would gay given Noelle’s past works. So I mentally took Bow/Glimmer off my list of possible pairings and whenever Glimbow had moments that seemed shippy to me from then on I just assumed I was reading it wrong.

So fast forward to Season 5 when Glimbow confessed their love to each other as I was literally in the middle of answering a kid question and I looked up at the screen and said, “Wait. What the heck just happened???” And afterwards everyone was cheering Glimbow bi canon wooo and I was deeply deeply confused. So then I went back and rewatched first the last season and then the entire run of the show by myself this time so I could actually pay attention and realized, wow, OK so those people I had seen talking back during Season 1 were completely full of baloney and led me totally wrong here.

Which is why, when people say they didn’t see Glimbow coming, I understand that. If you’re not giving the show your full attention, it is easy to miss because a lot of it is subtle. Or if you went in, like I did, with your impressions colored by completely wrong information from fandom, that would be a factor too.

Where people lose me, however, is when they say it came out of nowhere. You didn’t notice it? That’s understandable. But that doesn't mean it's not there. Go rewatch it and pay attention this time because it’s baked into the entire show from the first moments, and it’s obvious.

Anyway, obviously, once I rewatched the series and finally understood WTF was going on, I decided to embrace the Glimbow lifestyle forever, the end.

#glimbow #glimmer #bow #spop #shera #she ra #bowfuma #perfuma #spop fandom #shera fandom #tippen's posts

[professorkenobi]

a catboy for christmas

Note: This is a big time jump forward in the stray catboy au, but you can read the last part here. And you can see adorable art for this snippet by the wonderful shatou here! Happy Holidays all!

For many years, Obi-Wan had dutifully broken out the ladder and strung up Christmas lights on his house every December. And, for many years, he’d opted against shopping for a tree, hauling it into his living room and decorating it, just for him to be the only person who’d enjoy it.

On the odd year that he had friends over during the holiday season, he’d break out the holly-trimmed dinnerware set from the storage bin in the garage, but that was about the extent of his indoor decorating.

He was always busy with the end of the semester anyway. To go to all of that effort just for himself was pointless.

But, with Anakin, it was different. 

Halfway through the ordeal of stringing lights from the roof, Anakin came outside with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You were sleeping quite peacefully when I got up at seven.”

Anakin made a face. “Well, now that it’s a normal time to be awake I can help.”

Which was how Anakin ended up the one balancing on the top of the ladder, seemingly very much in his element, while Obi-Wan fed him the lights from the ground. 

By the time they were finished, Obi-Wan’s hands were numb in his gloves and Anakin’s ears were stiff from the cold. So Obi-Wan went about making hot chocolate while Anakin started a fire, and Anakin roped him into watching not just Home Alone, but the sequels too (“How can this be the sequel, that isn’t even the same child,”—”Just trust me, okay, it’s really good!”—sigh).

He didn’t register exactly when he started rubbing his fingers over Anakin’s silky ears to warm them up, but he continued even after Anakin scooted closer and dropped his head onto his shoulder.

—

Obi-Wan asked around at work for the best Christmas tree farm in the area, so that weekend they bundled up and set about finding a tree to fit in the corner of the living room.

He’d been planning to pick out a tree alone, knowing Anakin was still struggling with venturing out into public, but as soon as he’d mentioned the trip Anakin had perked up and declared they should go right now, before all the good trees are taken!

Obi-Wan soon discovered out that by good trees, Anakin meant big trees.

“This one.”

“Anakin, that’s not going to fit.”

Anakin pointed at the tree with the axe in his hand. “But it’s the perfect tree! It smells the freshest.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. Smells the freshest, really...

The tree also happened to be ample enough to take up half their living room. But Obi-Wan ran a hand over the branches, checking for loose needles, and discovered that this was indeed the healthiest tree they’d seen so far. And if it was the one Anakin wanted…

“Alright then, looks like we found our tree.”

Anakin’s responding grin set off a delicate flutter in his chest. 

The tree was almost too big to fit the racks on Obi-Wan’s sedan, but they somehow managed to secure it.

With Anakin taking charge of not only chopping the tree down, but also heaving its bulk through the front door, Obi-Wan couldn’t imagine not having Anakin with him for the task. 

The realization that he couldn’t imagine ever not having Anakin with him again hit him like a snowball to the chest.

—

It got dark out so early at this time of year, but inside Obi-Wan’s little kitchen it was cozy and bright, filled with the spicy scent of baking gingerbread. 

“Where’s the vanilla?” 

“Middle shelf on the end.” He nodded in the general direction.

“Gotcha!” Jars clattered as Anakin rummaged through the cabinet. Obi-Wan set the last spoon in the dish drainer and wiped his hands on a towel.

He turned just in time to catch Anakin pouring vanilla straight into the mixer bowl.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to measure that?” 

“Leave the science to me, old man.” Anakin cracked a sharp-toothed smile and started the mixer, mostly drowning out the jazz drifting from the speakers. 

It was true that Obi-Wan wasn’t much of a baker. He was a fair cook, but tended to stick to the same rotation of dishes for his weekly meal planning. Anakin, on the other hand, was accomplished enough that he had a disquieting tendency to play fast and loose with the recipe.

It bothered Obi-Wan less than he would have thought. He couldn’t even bring himself to mind the mess. Not when it was created by Anakin flitting around the kitchen, getting a dusting of flour on his ears and everything else in the vicinity. 

Obi-Wan busied himself drying dishes until the mixer powered down.

“Wanna lick?”

Anakin stood at his shoulder, holding out a beater absolutely drenched in white frosting. His other hand hovered underneath to catch any drips. 

“Ah— tempting, but no thank you.” 

“You sure?” Anakin shook the beater slightly, and a small glob fell onto his fingers. “It’s delicious.” 

“It’s yours.” 

He had been tempted. But forgoing something small to make Anakin happy felt the most natural thing in the world.

“Your loss!” 

Anakin stuck the tip of the beater into his mouth and began enthusiastically licking up the frosting. Obi-Wan caught a flash of pink tongue twining between the wires and swallowed reflexively, heat rising to his cheeks. 

He was dimly aware that he was staring, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away. Not as Anakin began cleaning off his hands, seemingly unaware of the picture he made with one sticky finger after another disappearing between his full lips and more frosting smeared across his cheek.

“You have a little, er, by your mouth there,” he managed. 

“Oh, thanks.” Anakin wiped at his face, missing by a mile. “Did I get it?” 

Obi-Wan chuckled. “Not quite— here, let me.” He swiped at Anakin’s cheek with his thumb and, unthinkingly, brought it to his mouth. 

The taste of vanilla and sugar burst saccharine on his tongue. 

“You were right.” 

Anakin blinked at him, wide-eyed. “A-about what?” 

“It is delicious.” 

—

He was straining to reach the top of the tree when Anakin walked in from the kitchen, the last bite of a cookie in his hand.

“Wait, let me do that!” 

Anakin swiped the star from his hands with ease and went right up on his tip-toes. He had just the extra couple inches that were needed to place the star in the right spot, nestling it among the highest branches so it wouldn’t topple.

Then he turned to him, a wide grin dimpling his cheeks. “How’s that?”

The sight of Anakin, backlit by the tree’s sparkling lights, bundled in Obi-Wan’s biggest sweater with pale thighs bare above argyle socks, and smiling at him with open joy—it stole his breath, made him feel a little unsteady on his feet.

“It’s perfect.” He reached up to push a stray curl out of Anakin’s face, and his hand got playfully headbutted in return. “Thank you, dear.”

Anakin went pink at that, ducking his head and busying himself with rearranging the garland on the tree. Obi-Wan felt his cheeks go a touch warm as well. He hadn’t meant to say it so… affectionately. 

Well. Maybe he had.

Anakin tucked in the end of the tinsel and stepped back, surveying the whole picture with arms crossed.

“Looks finished, to me. Whaddaya think?” 

“I’ll have to defer to your expertise. I, ah, actually haven’t had a Christmas tree in many years,” Obi-Wan admitted. 

Anakin frowned. “So do you not have people over for the holidays or whatever?” 

“Not really.” 

“Then, do you usually, I mean...” Anakin looked down, picking at a nonexistent ball of lint on his sweater. “Will you be going somewhere else for Christmas, then?” 

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan took him softly by the elbow. Anakin’s eyes, twin pools brimming with reflected light, caught his and held. “I was hoping we could spend it together. If you’d like.” 

Anakin’s mouth fell open in a soft o. “You mean that? Just the two of us?” 

Obi-Wan’s grip slid down the back of Anakin’s arm, searching beneath his overlong sleeve for his hand. It was warm, and he squeezed it. 

“Of course I mean it.” 

“Then, yeah.” Anakin’s fingers curled around his and squeezed back. “I’d like that.” 

—

On Christmas Eve, they cooked dinner together with a backdrop of snow falling outside the window, dusting the back deck in a fluffy layer of white. 

While they ate, splitting a saucepan’s worth of mulled wine between them (“You don’t eat the orange slices, Anakin.”—“What? Why wouldn’t you?”—“...I suppose you’re right, that’s a silly rule,”)  Obi-Wan’s thoughts naturally strayed to the blackberry brambles, to the frozen dirt, the swirling flurries. 

He looked outside, into the darkness, and then turned to Anakin, his head of curls golden under the warm glow of the evening lights, talking heatedly about—something about peppermint bark—and he was filled with overwhelming gratitude that Anakin was here and not out there.

Anakin’s arms stopped their wild gesturing. “Why are you smiling?”

“No reason.” Obi-Wan raised his glass to hide his lips and found himself inadvertently smiling even wider. “I just like listening to you.”

“Oh.” He was rewarded with a tentative little smile in return.

They ended up on the couch, their glasses topped off, with the fire crackling and the Christmas tree lit up in all its glory.

Obi-Wan wasn’t even sure which movie they were watching, but Anakin seemed to enjoy it. For his part, the mulled wine had gone to his head a little. Perhaps he could rest his eyes, just for a moment... 

When he opened them again, the credits had rolled and the fire was starting to burn low. Anakin's head was pillowed on his thigh, curls carelessly tossed across his face. His breath rose and fell softly and his ears twitched every few seconds with whatever dream he was having.

Obi-Wan smoothed a hand over them until they stilled. He hoped it was a happy dream. 

He would have happily stayed there all night, but his leg was starting to fall asleep. Yes, it was definitely time for them to retire to bed, but he didn’t have it in him to wake Anakin, not when he was sleeping so soundly.

So, very carefully, he gathered Anakin into his arms and carried him up the stairs.

Anakin didn’t seem to rouse, not even when his foot accidentally bumped against the doorway, but he did snuffle in his sleep and curl in closer to his body, probably seeking out warmth.

Obi-Wan thought he might’ve heard him mumble something, right as he deposited him in bed, but he couldn’t make it out.

With Anakin’s face so relaxed and beautiful in his sleep, he couldn’t resist gently brushing his knuckles over the delicate cheekbone. 

“Merry Christmas Eve, Anakin.”

—

The thump-thump-thump of hurried feet running down the stairs was Obi-Wan’s only warning before he had a gift-wrapped box thrust in front of his face. 

“Merry Christmas,” Anakin declared, his eyes bright and excited under sleep-mussed curls.

“You didn’t—”

Anakin practically pushed the present into his chest. “Nuh-uh. You have to accept it. I worked hard on it.”

After a beat, Obi-Wan set his cup aside and took the offered present. He recognized the glossy candy canes as his own wrapping paper. Anakin must have sniffed out the bin hiding under the bed. 

He’d also found the roll of red ribbon, and had tied it into a bow bigger than the box itself.

Obi-Wan set the box on the couch next to him. “I won’t open mine until you open yours.”

Anakin’s brow creased in earnest as he caught sight of the modest collection of packages under the tree. “Obi-Wan, this is too much. I can’t let you—mmph.”

Obi-Wan had brought up a hand to cover his mouth. “Not another word. They’re for you.”

Anakin tried to say something, making the hairs on Obi-Wan’s arm stand on end as soft lips brushed his palm. He quickly drew back. 

“Fine,” Anakin frowned at him. “But it’s still ridiculous.”

Obi-Wan wagged a finger playfully. “If I hear any more complaints out of you, young man, I’ll start taking them back.” 

“But I want them!” Anakin pouted at him, and he had to hide his smile behind his hand.

An almost overwhelming feeling of fondness swelled in Obi-Wan’s chest as he watched Anakin tear into his gifts. He amassed a small pile of mostly practical items— clothes and socks, warm and sturdy ones that wouldn’t go threadbare and leave him shivering. A set of products for his curly hair. A few hobby engineering volumes that came highly recommended by the countergirl at Obi-Wan’s favorite local bookstore. 

Anakin saved the largest package for last. “What’s this, Obi-Wan?”

“Go on, open it.” 

He tore away the paper and stared down at what it revealed. 

“It’s a coffee maker,” Obi-Wan said. “I thought you must be tired of making do with a teapot every morning.” 

Anakin just kept staring. 

“It came very well rated, has all the functions, you can set it to start when you wake up and—” he realized he was rambling. “Is it alright?” 

Finally looking up, Anakin smiled at him. For some strange reason, his eyes were shining, tears threatening to spill over. “It’s perfect, Obi-Wan. Thank you so much.” 

He scooted closer and wrapped Obi-Wan in a tight embrace, his breath fanning warm on Obi-Wan’s neck. Obi-Wan returned the hug, rubbing soothing circles on Anakin’s back. 

Far too soon, they pulled apart. Obi-Wan reached for his little present, beyond curious to see what Anakin had come up with.

Anakin looked to the side. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get more.” 

“Shh, I didn’t expect anything.” Obi-Wan pulled at the bow and opened the box. 

He traced his fingers over the smooth curves and contours of the wood in awe. “Anakin,” he breathed. “You... you made this?”

Anakin started wringing his tail in his lap, his eyes downcast. “It’s not much, but it’s… well I…”

Obi-Wan clutched the carving tight to his chest. “I love it. Thank you. Although…”

Anakin’s face fell instantly. Obi-Wan’s heart hammered a staccato beat even as he pulled the ribbon loose from the wrapping paper and brought it up around Anakin’s neck.

To their credit, his fingers only trembled a little as he carefully tied the ribbon into a loose bow around Anakin’s neck. Like a flamboyant necklace, or perhaps a, like a collar…

“You are worth more to me than any gift you could give me.”

The beautiful color that graced Anakin’s cheeks made taking the risk of saying out loud what he felt in his heart worth it. He wanted to say more, there was so much in his heart that was aching to be spilled, but before he could speak Anakin was leaning over to grab the Santa hat off the table and placing it on Obi-Wan’s head, the fuzzy brim nearly falling into his eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said softly, his eyes twinkling.

Joy bloomed in his chest. “Merry Christmas, Anakin.”

#stray catboy au #obikin

[inclineto]

Books, May - June 2021

Tess of the Road - Rachel Hartman [dnf]

A River of Stars - Vanessa Hua

The Sealed Letter - Emma Donoghue

Giant Bones - Peter S. Beagle

Moominsummer Madness - Tove Jansson *

The Beacon at Alexandria - Gillian Bradshaw *

The Phantom Tollbooth - Norton Juster *

Libertie - Kaitlyn Greenidge 

Stay - Nicola Griffith

Four Lost Cities: A Secret History of the Urban Age - Annalee Newitz [Thoroughly enjoyable, but also the sort of pop archaeology book where things like this happen repeatedly, and I’m sorry, but I laughed: “And then, as if by magic, the eminent University of Cambridge archaeologist Andrew Wallace-Hadrill appeared.” (As far as the narrative admits, they did not have an appointment; while they were wandering around Pompeii, collecting information about his speciality, he was wandering around Pompeii, happy to be encountered and become a source.)]

Teach Me - Olivia Dade

The Address Book: What Street Addresses Reveal About Identity, Race, Wealth, and Power - Deirdre Mask

We Are Watching Eliza Bright - A.E. Osworth [“I am not going to read the gamergate novel,” I said, “and especially not when it’s using 1st person plural MFA POV half of the time,” but then I voyeuristically devoured the gamergate novel which is, really, its point: “We are obsessed with what goes on where we can’t see it.”] *

Ivory Apples - Lisa Goldstein [what the hell?!? no.]

The Future of Another Timeline - Annalee Newitz

The Scarlet Seed - Edith Pargeter [the scenes that made me cry as a child still make me cry now, and that’s rather nice]

The Perilous Life of Jade Yeo - Zen Cho [Five books later, I’m prepared to admit that Zen Cho and I aligned for one glorious novel and some related characters (Sorcerer to the Crown; Rollo & Aunt Georgiana), and I’m mostly indifferent to everything else, but I keep trying because there’s always a sentence like this: “Being good-looking and interesting and having the heavy-lidded gaze of a romantic tapir does not excuse writing a foolish book.”]

Elementals - A. S. Byatt

Searching for Black Confederates: The Civil War’s Most Persistent Myth - Kevin M. Levin

What Katy Did Next - Susan Coolidge

Feed the Resistance: Recipes + Ideas for Getting Involved - Julia Turshen et al.

A Duke, the Lady, and a Baby - Vanessa Riley [dnf]

The Sibyl in Her Grave - Sarah Caudwell

Sabriel - Garth Nix *

Outcrossing - Celia Lake [dnf]

Mending Matters: Stitch, Patch, and Repair Your Favorite Denim & More - Katrina Rodabaugh [so I feel like this was a couple of blog posts inflated into a book]

Rosaline Palmer Takes the Cake - Alexis Hall [extremely funny, made me want to bake during a heat wave, likely to suffer in reviews from mismatched genre expectations: it’s romantic comedy, not romance (I’ve just looked and yep! this is a major complaint)] *

Tales from Moominvalley - Tove Jansson

Goblin Fruit - Celia Lake [dnf]

Coffee Boy - Austin Chant [trying to do more than its length and thin characterization can carry, but also heartening in the main character’s explicit refusal to embody a limited and patronizing narrative of marginalized suffering; I wouldn’t want every trans romance to do this so overtly, just as I don’t want every queer romance to be about overcoming homophobia, but I want a few of them to (fair also to note that in contemporary settings, I find boss/intern scenarios really unappealing, and no, I don’t care if they talk about it; had it been longer I would almost certainly have bailed)]

Uncanny Valley - Anna Wiener [didn’t really plan to read this; definitely didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as I did - I thought it would be just another new adult navel-gazing indictment of tech bros, and it is, but it’s got seriously good style to go with it] *

Lord John and the Private Matter - Diana Gabaldon

Behind Closed Doors: At Home in Georgian England - Amanda Vickery

On Juneteenth - Annette Gordon-Reed

Salt Magic, Skin Magic - Lee Welch

Lord John and the Hand of Devils - Diana Gabaldon [read the first two novellas, but my tolerance for Diana Gabaldon’s Diana-Gabaldon-ness is relatively low and the second novel wore it out; dnf]

Lord John and the Brotherhood of the Blade - Diana Gabaldon

A Seditious Affair - KJ Charles [because once you’re 75+ comments into an increasingly-involved modern AU, the only reasonable thing to do is give in (looking back at the innocence of this mid-June annotation...oh, you sweet summer child)] *

Four Hundred Souls: A Community History of African America 1619-2019 - edited by Ibram X. Kendi and Keisha N. Blain [in the end, I’m not sure the organizing principles of 5 year chunks and short word counts really allow enough scope for many of the essays, but look for this to show up on Most Challenged lists and as a target of reactionary legislation anyway]

A Gentleman’s Position - KJ Charles [see prev. entry in series]

The Secret Adversary - Agatha Christie [sometimes you should not reread your childhood books]

Fire Watch - Connie Willis

The Ruin of Gabriel Ashleigh - KJ Charles [possibly shouldn’t be an entry, but what the heck, it’s sold separately; see prev. entry in series]

The City of Brass - S. A. Chakraborty

American Quilts: The Democratic Art - Robert Shaw [that subtitle tells you exactly what to expect from the text, but the quilts are lovely]

Engaging Diverse Communities: A Guide to Museum Public Relations - Melissa A. Johnson

Strange the Dreamer - Laini Taylor [dnf]

#books 2021 #books practical and pleasurable #i repeat: #are surprise!sexuality reveals actually a surprise to straight people? sometimes i wonder #beginning and ending with failure: how human