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#it's short i know
belovedharringrove · 2 years
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listen, billy and steve adopt twin redhead girls after they marry. i don't make the rules, buddy.
but imagine steve coming home after a long day of work and expecting billy and the kids to be asleep, so he's just planning on showering and then collapsing in bed next to his husband. but when he's walking down the hallway towards his room, he sees the door to the girls' room wide open so he's thinking that maybe nicole is giving billy some trouble again (because she hates going to bed but then hates waking up once she's asleep).
when he approaches, he expects to see the girls in their pjs and billy desperately trying to convince nicole to please go to sleep but he has to stop in the doorway and give his heart time to melt because what he sees is billy sitting cross-legged in the center of the room and the girls applying makeup on him, both giggling happily and excited to make their papa look beautiful.
"shouldn't you two be in bed?" he asks when he's looked for long enough and is pretty sure the image is now burned into his mind so he can look back on it afterwards (and after he's sneakily taken a few pictures on his phone). both girls turn to look at him at the same time, one shocked and the other absolutely delighted.
"your turn, dada!" nicole squeals and points the makeup brush at him like its a dangerous weapon and in her hands, steve's like 98% sure that it is. when billy sees that both girls are distracted, he quickly starts putting their makeup away so they can't poke his eyes with the brushes anymore and steve laughs as he scoops up both girls and makes his way to the bathroom to give them a much needed bath. how does someone get lipstick in their hair?
billy joins him in the bathroom a few minutes later and when steve turns to look at him, he has to bite his tongue to not laugh out loud. "you look so pretty, papa." he coos and billy scowls as he kneels next to him to help the girls. billy's eyelids are an explosion of color and his eyeliner reaches his temples, his blush is a harsh red and his lipstick is messy and a shade of bright pink that would send even nancy wheeler running for the hills in fear. but their girls did it so steve thinks he looks gorgeous.
still, they bathe the girls together and listen to nicole's excited rambles and cynthia's quiet additions and then they help them brush their teeth and dress in their princess pajamas and tuck them into bed.
nicole is, suprisingly, the first to fall asleep. but as they tuck cynthia in and kiss her forehead, she looks up at billy with beautiful, sleepy emerald eyes and smiles at him like he hung up the moon and stars in her name. "thank you, papa." she says and her eyes drift closed, the happy smile still painted on her lips.
then once they're in their bedroom and billy's wiped away the tears from his eyes, they're both exhausted as they stumble into their bathroom to wipe away billy's makeup. steve's eyesight is starting to blur already and billy's eyes are drifting shut as they clean the bright pink lipstick off his lips, but he still kisses steve when he's least expecting it and smiles when his husband laughs, pleasantly surprised.
"i take it you and the girls had fun today?" steve asks once billy's face is clean and they've both changed into comfortable pajamas (not princess ones, but still very comfortable.)
the sigh that billy lets out makes steve laugh softly as they both curl up close together under the blanket, steve's head resting on billy's chest and both already drifting off to sleep.
the next day, they'll have to deal with both girls crying when they see billy without any makeup and they'll only calm down when they offer to let them put makeup on both dada and papa, and they'll have to deal with max stopping by to visit and laughing so hard at them that coffee will come out of her nose, but for now? steve smiles faintly when he feels billy kiss the top of his head and then they both fall asleep happy and in love, glad that they can give their girls the happy childhoods that they never got.
tagging: @every-dayiwakeup
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Swollen and tender+ twist and sprain for Rhyss
from Very Specific Whump Prompts Part 1
15. A twist or sprain 16. Swollen and tender
Content Warnings: wing whump, falling, sprain
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"Just - ow - just a - ow, ow - just pulled some-something."
Rhyss tells himself this as he sits in a grassy spot beside a creek and slowly tries to stretch out the wing. The wing he just landed on, to be specific.
Finally able to fly after days lying low, avoiding capture, the winged young man may have...over done it, a little.
"OW!"
Okay, maybe more than a little.
Rhyss whines sharply as stretching his batlike wing out to its full span sends needles of pain down the top of it. He quickly folds both wings back in and forces himself to look at the source of the pain.
The joint at the top of his wing is swollen and inflamed. When he tries to move it the muscles beneath the taut skin scream in protest. Not just a pull, but a very bad sprain...
At least it isn't broken, he thinks miserably.
Rhyss lies on his stomach and scoots forward until he can carefully dip the top of his wing into the stream. He sighs and presses his face into the grass, letting the cool water soothe the ache.
He tries to ignore the sorrow that tugs at him at being grounded once more.
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miniaturecatmentality · 2 months
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guys I just found the greatest video on the internet
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sylvies-kablooie · 3 months
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i do unironically think the best artists of our generation are posting to get 20 notes and 3 reblogs btw. that fanfic with like 45 kudos is some of the best stuff ever written. those OCs you carry around have some of the richest backstories and worldbuilding someone has ever seen. please do not think that reaching only a few people when you post means your art isn't worth celebrating.
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layzeal · 6 months
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i figured it out
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sing-you-fools · 8 months
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me: this is a background character who's in one scene, has two lines, and is completely irrelevant to the rest of the story. i am going to stop obsessing over what to name him and use the random name generator on behindthename.com. i am going to accept the first thing it gives me and move the fuck on.
behindthename.com:
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gin-juice-tonic · 8 months
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remembering one of the times i was getting evaluated by a therapist to determine if i was "really trans" or not or whatever and he was like "so if you transitioned to male, how would you dress differently?"
and i was like "i.. dont know. I wouldnt?"
and he looked at me blankly and wrote something down and said "really? you wouldnt wear anything more masculine?"
and i realized i'd given the wrong answer so I just said "I would... wear... suits?"
and he smiled and wrote something else down like "ah! yes"
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zytes · 5 months
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this manatee looks like it’s in a skyrim loading screen
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stil-lindigo · 2 months
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ARTISTS FOR PALESTINE 🇵🇸 - On the 6th and 9th of March, I'll be doing art requests on stream with other notable artists to raise money for Operation Olive Branch and the PCRF.
I'm incredibly lucky to be counting quite a few big names in the roster, including known Jesus and Odysseus enthusiast @wolfythewitch, the extraordinary fanartist @denimcatfish, and the incredibly talented @troubledminnesotan, as well as Lilypichu from OfflineTV.
You'll be able to watch the streams on the day of the event either on my twitch channel here, or via the links provided by the artists below.
Lilypichu
Cuptoast
Akairosu_
Sevvanto
Wolfythewitch
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vistarya · 2 months
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May I have this dance, Mrs Tims?
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koddlet · 6 months
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some people have asked about making zines, and i've seen a lot of people in the tags talk about wanting to make some but don't know how... so here is a zine (technically two) about making zines! wowza! pardon the handwriting lol
there are other methods of making zines that require a stapler or sewing, but this one-page zine is the simplest form of it.
i hope this makes sense, feel free to ask if anything is unclear :]
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pineapple-frenzy · 25 days
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Book 2 au: sparring sessions and short hair katara
They like to have sparring sessions in order to keep their bending skills sharp. They allow themselves to go all out and not hold back at all cause they know if anyone got hurt, Katara could just heal them
But anyways, wouldn't it be kinda funny if Zuko accidentally burned Katara's hair tho? Aofkqldkkajfjd
The "I think we can save the hairloops" line is from @linnoya-writes thank you for that!! :>>
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feluka · 6 months
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If you're asking "why are western christians not condemning the bombing of palestinian churches?!" I would highly recommend researching and reading up on the term "Biblical Orientalism"; it's the same reason European and American missionaries have attempted to "convert" the already Christian Arab population.
If you've already figured out that the answer is racism, you'd be right, but I would still recommend reading about biblical orientalism if only to fully understand this specific flavor of racism, how it affects Christian Palestinians, and how it is weaponized in the context of Zionism.
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oldbookshop · 5 months
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thinking abt how david tenant's nonbinary kid will grow up with a doctor who that is unashamedly inclusive of trans people. they'll see their dad on TV with a trans girl who saves the world.
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dear-detective · 1 year
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Introduction post
Hello, I am L, but you may call me Ryuzaki.
That is not my real name...but of course, I won't be giving that out so easily. I prefer the pronouns They/Them, and I am over 16. If you wish to interact I ask the same goes for you.
I am in the process of learning Japanese, for Watari plans to move us there in the near future.
This is a kin, roleplay and ask blog. I hope to reconnect with other kins of Death Note and not be killed by them in this life.
If that interests you, feel free to reach out via asks and such. I have a Discord, but I won't share it publicly.
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inkskinned · 1 year
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for a while i lived in an old house; the kind u.s americans don't often get to live in - living in a really old house here is super expensive. i found out right before i moved out that the house was actually so old that it features in a poem by emily dickinson.
i liked that there were footprints in front of the sink, worn into the hardwood. there were handprints on some of the handrails. we'd find secret marks from other tenants, little hints someone else had lived and died there. and yeah, there was a lot wrong with the house. there are a lot of DIY skills you learn when you are a grad student that cannot afford to pay someone else to do-it-for-ya. i shared the house with 8 others. the house always had this noise to it. sometimes that noise was really fucking awful.
in the mornings though, the sun would slant in thick amber skiens through the windows, and i'd be the first one up. i'd shuffle around, get showered in this tub that was trying to exit through the floor, get my clothes on. i would usually creep around in the kitchen until it was time to start waking everyone else up - some of them required multiple rounds of polite hey man we gotta go knocks. and it felt... outside of time. a loud kind of quiet.
the ghosts of the house always felt like they were humming in a melody just out of reach. i know people say that the witching hour happens in the dark, but i always felt like it occurred somewhere around 6:45 in the morning. like - for literal centuries, somebody stood here and did the dishes. for literal centuries, somebody else has been looking out the window to this tree in our garden. for literal centuries, people have been stubbing their toes and cracking their backs and complaining about the weather. something about that was so... strangely lovely.
i have to be honest. i'm not a history aficionado. i know, i know; it's tragic of me. i usually respond to "this thing is super old" by being like, wow! cool! and moving on. but this house was the first time i felt like the past was standing there. like it was breathing. like someone else was drying their hands with me. playing chess on the sofa. adding honey to their tea.
i grew up in an old town. like, literally, a few miles off of walden pond (as in of the walden). (also, relatedly, don't swim in walden, it's so unbelievably dirty). but my family didn't have "old house" kind of money. we had a barely-standing house from the 70's. history existed kind of... parallel to me. you had to go somewhere to be in history. your school would pack you up on a bus and take you to some "ye olden times" place and you'd see how they used to make glass or whatever, and then you'd go home to your LEDs. most museums were small and closed before 5. you knew history was, like, somewhere, but the only thing that was open was the mcdonalds and the mall.
i remember one of my seventh grade history teachers telling us - some day you'll see how long we've been human for and that thing has been puzzling me. i know the scientific number, technically.
the house had these little scars of use. my floors didn't actually touch the walls; i had to fill them with a stopgap to stop the wind. other people had shoved rags and pieces of newspaper. i know i've lost rings and earring backs down some of the floorboards. i think the raccoons that lived in our basement probably have collected a small fortune over the years. i complain out loud to myself about how awful the stairs are (uneven, steep, evil, turning, hard to get down while holding anything) and know - someone else has said this exact same thing.
when i was packing up to leave and doing a final deep cleaning, i found a note carved in the furthest corner in the narrow cave of my closet. a child's scrawled name, a faded paint handprint, the scrangly numbers: 1857.
we've been human for a long time. way back before we can remember.
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