class 1-A as songs on my “screaming into the void” playlist
an: first bnha post!!! coming in with my knives swinging i am not missing a single jugular. /lh
subgenre: i hate myself and it’s all your fault
i just learned the f word - SARAH
kill somebody - YUNGBLUD
i’m not okay (i promise) - my chemical romance
turbulent - waterparks
subgenre: everyone i’ve ever looked up to is either dead or an asshole
monsters - james blunt
class of 2013 - mitski
rat - penelope scott
filthy - WSTR
subgenre: aggressive positivity
everything is fine - all time low
i am waking up today - bowling for soup
teenage icon - the vaccines
be nice to me - the front bottoms
subgenre: burned out gifted kid ft. sibling trauma
big brother - fail better, heal faster
ramblings of a lunatic - bears in trees
ART IS DEAD - bo burnham
i am shit - crywank
subgenre: i don’t even fucking know myself anymore but i know i’m a bad person
tell me it’s okay - paramore
asthma attack - NOAHFINNCE
pope alexander - crywank
notes app apology - heart attack man
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Taren’s next line is: I kind of figured that out already
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Ch. 12: One Last Night Pt. II
This is it folks, I finished this fic!
Summary: Businessman McMoneybanks Dorian Pavus meets LocalArtist Outdoorsyguy Taren Lavellan whilst on a business trip to a Fancy Ski Resort in the Mountains with his Terrible Father and learns the True Meaning of the Holidays (it’s love) (and anticapticalism)
Pairings: Pavellan, background Sera x Dagna
Rated M for non-explicit sex scenes and some other mature themes
Chapters: 12/12 (wc: 113 431)
From the top!
The morning was crisp, and achingly bright. A faint scent of woodsmoke filled the cold air, entering Taren’s lungs as he left his van parked in its spot behind his building and lifted his head to watch his breath float away. The block was silent. A thin layer of new snow lay untouched over the empty parking lot in the centre of it, and the street bore only the tracks of his own van, pressed into the still unplowed road until they turned in to come to rest behind him. His own building sat comfortably nestled next to neighbouring chocolatiers and bakeries and souvenir shops that dotted either side of the main road all the way down to the huge, ancient cedar that stood glittering with silver tinsel under the sun in the town square. The village grew out around it; zigzagging streets branched off towards familiar homes built into wide swaths of land hiding stoney hills and fields of scruffy grasses under the deep winter.
He took a long, wistful look back; eyes travelling up the mountain road and into the dense forests of snow-covered trees lining its path. Old, strong trees climbed the mountainsides: drooping yellow cedars and wide-armed alpine firs, jutting lodgepole pines and stumpy mountain hemlocks, mingling along the mountain’s clearings and thin rivers with sleeping birches and leafless golden aspens. Hidden in that depth was another road, a faint line of shadowy trail through the rocks and trees that turned away east and then south, winding off downward until it journeyed away from the mountains altogether. He sighed, a puff of cloudy breath thrust out grumpily into the air, and turned his gaze back towards the shop. He squinted against the flash of sunlight on silver as he tossed his keys into the air and caught them again out of habit alone, and then leaned back, staring up over the shuttered homes of his neighbours; over his home, too. The sky above him was a sharp and spotless azure blue, and smoke from nearby chimneys floated up into the windless sky in full, fluffy clouds of white.The rooftops of the still-sleeping shops and homes loomed quietly, covered in soft, thick pillows of pure white snow. It was beautiful and peaceful, like the whole world was dozing comfortably under some perfect spell, and Taren hated every single thing about it.
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Ellie, it's bacon boys birthday. What is he up to today?! 👀 I hope he's woken up because of some... *cough* attentiveness from his husband ✨
The right question is, what ISN’T he up to because what he expects is a quiet day that he gets to spends with his family, with maybe some kind of surprise thrown in by Mickey because after the stunt with the anniversary celebration, Ian is kind of anticipating something. Obviously, it’s anything but quiet.
He wakes to some action underneath his comforter. When he tugs it back to peek inside, he finds Mickey all red and out of breath, complaining Thank fucking Christ you’re awake. Thought I was gonna suffocate in here.
Ian pulls him up to give him a thorough and frankly quite disgusting--morning breath and all the under cover action considering--kiss. Mmm, happy birthday to me, Ian sighs happily into the kiss. Happy birthday to you, Mickey says back.
They never get to finish what Mickey’s started because soon enough, Ian’s phone blasts out with incoming messages and calls. Mandy facetimes, making fun of Ian for having quote obvious bed hair and sex eyes. Mickey leans in to give Ian one last peck, blocking Mandy’s view with a raised middle finger. He then gets up, but not without calling her a few nasty names. Fiona calls next, getting a little emotional when she says how proud she is of him and the man he grew up to be. Ian then deals with some messages in the family group chat before padding down to the kitchen to join Mickey. He gets a little handsy over coffee and also may be directly to blame for burning their pancakes--but ask him if he cares.
Ian’s supposed to meet Lip soon and then join his siblings for a small garden party at the house. Mickey says he’s gonna just relax in the apartment and enjoy the alone time, but Ian has his eyes on him. Jesus Christ, can’t a guy throw a surprise anniversary party without it becoming a thing? Ain’t gonna think of something special for every occasion just to cater to your needy ass. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Gallagher, Mickey remarks, and Ian can’t help but grin at him, because that was such bullshit. He’s totally planning something.
But it’s my birthday! Ian fake pouts as he clutches onto his husband.
Yeah? And you already got half a hummer, so count your fucking blessings, man, and move on. I’ll see you later.
While Ian’s with Lip, Mickey sneaks into the house to bake a cake for him. Debbie and Liam promised to help him, and he’s mostly there to bitch and supervise. The cake has got to be dick-shaped (with the number 25 written on the shaft, obviously), Mickey insists. It involves some back and forth and money being exchanged but, eventually, Debbie agrees to do the dickshaping.
They make some cupcakes from the extra batter for Franny, because Debbie refuses to feed her child a dick cake. Liams just shakes his head, muttering something about white people, but in the end, a cake’s a cake, so he decides he can probably eat a piece that looks the least like a penis.
The cake’s the talk of the party (Did you have the tip or the balls? What did you think of the cream filling?), and everyone takes an insane amount of inappropriate photos with it.
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Excuse me I have just learned that ben Barnes is FORTY that is not allowed he’s too hot to be that old.
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RB shop link ~
Almost all my art there, but if I missed something you want, let me know:)
@theflyingpeach tagging you, cause you’ve been asking :)
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Пароход заревел, подражая крику мамонта, а можеть быть, и другого животного, заменявшего в доисторические времена пароходную сирену.
“Двенадцать стульев” (1928) И. Ильф и Е. Петров
The ship gave a roar, imitating the sound of a mammoth, or possible some other animal which was used in prehistoric times to replace the sound of a ship’s hooter. (”The Twelve Chairs” by Ilf and Petrov, translated by J.H.C. Richardson)
Der Dampfer heulte auf, und es klang wie der Schrei eines Mammuts oder auch eines anderen Tiers, das in prähistorischen Zeiten die Schiffssirene ersetzt hatte. (”Zwölf Stühle” von Ilf und Petrow, aus dem Russischen von R. und T. Reschke)
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this picture is very important to me gn
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It is a truth almost universally noted that time seems to stand still when one is uneasy, and passes quickly when it gives way to happiness.
Twelve Moons and a Fortnight - stiltonbasket
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oK but jack & dario i want to go to energy happy town too & take some bravery pills
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Beauty is only the garnish upon a sweet dish; and the best foods are eaten with closed eyes to better treasure the flavor, so what does it matter?
Twelve Moons and a Fortnight - stiltonbasket (AO3)
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too tired to go through any other tags thats it whos gonna tell me the cartoon chr im romantically obsessed with loves me today now -_-
As much as I love The Hunger Games I really wish more background characters got more closure in the end.
Open Starter: Group Mob AU
“They should be happy I went for their things and not their people. Though, I didn’t dump some pretty expensive looking tech into the bay. All those geniuses and they can’t keep a handful of people out,” Pietro scoffed. “I can’t wait to see their reaction.”
Need everyone to know I've kept my scarf to my head for twelve and a half hours by living the #bosslife
Twisted Tales: Another Princess, Another Curse
The Princess was cursed, or so they said. The first prince who tried to win her hand vanished that same night. The same happened to the next prince. And then the next.
The princess was perfectly harmless in the daylight but at night something happened to her behind her chamber doors. Perhaps she turned into a wolf who devoured men, or maybe her touch was cursed in the moonlight and those who touched her were whisked away to inexistence. Did a possessive demon want the princess for himself and disposed of her suitors? Whatever the case, the king grew desperate for an answer. He offered his daughter’s hand in marriage and his throne to any noble man who could solve the mystery. Many men clamored for the chance. At night they were allowed in her chambers and in the morning only the princess remained. Soon the noble men ran out and the king offered prize to any man, noble or common.
The castle gardener volunteered. He was dressed and fed like a prince and then sent to this doom. When the lady in waiting went to wake the princess in the morning, she was shocked to find the gardener in bed with her, alive and unharmed.
“What’s done is done. The princess is cursed no longer.” The two were wed and the gardener was crowned as promised. The two reigned with kindness and their love for one another brought happiness to all. The years passed, their children grew, and the kingdom prospered. But no matter who asked, or how many times, the two never revealed what had happened that night or how the curse had been lifted. It was a mystery that faded with time.
But perhaps the mystery wasn’t as complicated as it had always seemed. If only the king had realized how much time his daughter had spent in the gardens or if the servants had seen that the princess wasn’t as interested in the flowers as she was with the handsome gardener. How easily overlooked the ivy that grew in thick ropes along the castle wall made a perfect climb to the princess’s unlocked windows. How lazy were the servants that didn’t seem to realize that only one goblet of wine that they retrieved to clean the day after a prince had vanished had been drunk out of and the other was still full? Even those that noticed the gardener frequently had spots of dried blood dotting his hands were easily reassured when he gave a knowing smile and simply said, “thorns” as a way of explanation. And my, how pungent the smell of flowers cloaked him, almost as if he doused himself in the scents to disguise another one.
Perhaps a smarter kingdom would have been less likely to accept a sinister and mysterious curse and would have investigated further the simple fact that after men disappeared, the gardener would be planting new flowers in the early dusk on freshly overturned dirt.
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So I've had this one drawing sitting unfinished for months now right. And I can't move on to a new drawing because I like the wip and if I move on I know I'll abandon it. But I can't finish it because I don't feel like it. But I can't just post it because it's not finished and that's illegal. So now I just can't draw anymore
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I just fucked up my knee and I just think that's very very sexy of me to do that. To fuck up my knee
Group Mob AU Open Starter
Pietro sat in a now empty Stark warehouse. It had taken him some time to clear it all out of its tech and supplies. Bit by bit he had taken whatever he could carry. Until nothing was left but the walls. He had been waiting for someone to show up. To gloat.
“You know, for a group that loves its technology, you lot really suck at keeping people out. If I was you, I might want to check the others.”