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#the grotto of cheer
weirdlookindog · 6 months
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"A woman will wait for a long time - on either side of the grave!" - Stanton A. Goblentz
Lee Brown Coye - The Grotto of Cheer
(Weird Tales - May 1948)
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Santa’s Grotto.
my masterlist || ask me anything <3
my blurb masterlist is here!
authors note - long hair harry makes me feral ngl, so enjoy him taking his son to go and see santa:)
word count - 1.3k
in which, harry takes his two year old son, sebastian, to go and see santa because your at home sick from the flu, but it doesn’t go aswell as he hoped seeing as all little kids appear to have a phobia of the man dressed in red.
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At eighteen, Harry Styles embraced the profound reality of parenthood when his son, Sebastian Robin-Edward Styles was born. Sleepless nights became a routine as Harry devoted himself to the care of his newborn. The dim glow of nightlights and lullabies filled the early hours, creating a tender atmosphere of fatherly dedication.
The exhaustion was palpable, yet Harry wouldn't trade those sleepless nights for anything. Each bleary-eyed moment was a testament to the deep love he felt for Sebastian. The bond forged during those quiet hours of feeding, soothing, and comforting became the foundation of an unbreakable connection.
Harry often looked back on those moments when he spent time with his now two year old son, who was turning more and more into a close friend of his as the minutes of the day ticked by.
In the heart of the bustling mall, Harry stood patiently in line at Santa's grotto, his two-year-old son, Sebastian, cradled in his arms. The air was filled with the warm scent of cinnamon and the soft murmur of excited chatter as families eagerly awaited their turn. The line snaked around, adorned with festive decorations that captured Sebastian's wide-eyed attention.
Harry's long hair served as an unintentional playground for his son, who gleefully tugged at the strands while fixating on the mesmerizing twinkling lights overhead.
As they edged closer to the front, Harry observed the diverse array of families sharing in the holiday spirit. Laughter and anticipation filled the air, creating a joyful atmosphere that enveloped both father and son.
Sebastian, blissfully unaware of the world beyond the enchanting lights, continued to marvel at the vibrant surroundings, his tiny fingers entangled in Harry's locks.
The anticipation heightened as they approached the entrance to Santa's magical realm. Harry, with a loving smile, gently adjusted Sebastian in his arms, ensuring the little one had the best view of the enchanting scene.
The elves, adorned in festive attire, orchestrated the seamless flow of families, adding to the enchantment that surrounded them. As they neared the front of the line, the duo's excitement mirrored that of the other children and parents, all eagerly awaiting their moment with the jolly man in red.
As Harry and Sebastian reached the front of the queue, a friendly elf with a sprightly demeanor greeted them.
"Well, hello there! Looks like we've got a special visitor today," the elf exclaimed, a twinkle in their eye.
Sebastian, however, suddenly grew shy, burying his face in the crook of Harry's neck, his tiny hands clutching onto the strands of his father's hair.
Harry chuckled warmly, gently coaxing Sebastian to face the friendly elf. "S’okay, buddy. S’nice elf just wants t’say hello."
He lifted Sebastian slightly, revealing a bashful smile on the toddler's face.
The elf, undeterred by Sebastian's shyness, continued to engage them, "Santa's been eagerly waiting to meet you, little one. What's your name?"
Sebastian mumbled a soft reply, his words muffled by the safety of Harry's neck.
The elf, playing along, nodded with exaggerated excitement. "Ah, Sebastian! That's a fantastic name for someone about to meet Santa. I bet you've been a good little helper this year, haven't you?"
Sebastian, gaining a bit more confidence, peeked out from his hiding spot and shyly nodded.
Harry joined the conversation, appreciating the effort to make Sebastian feel comfortable.
"He's been such a good boy, especially with all the twinkling lights and holiday cheer around here." Harry answered, brushing some of his son's curls out of his face.
The elf grinned, "That's wonderful to hear! Santa loves hearing about good boys like Sebastian. Well, it won't be long now before you get to share all your wishes with him."
As they chatted, the atmosphere in Santa's grotto remained festive and lively. The elf skillfully transitioned the conversation to holiday traditions, asking Harry and Sebastian about their favourite parts of the season.
Harry shared stories of their family traditions, and before they knew it, it was time to approach Santa's chair.
The elf gestured toward the magical seat, "Sebastian, are you ready to meet the big man himself?"
As Harry and Sebastian entered Santa's tent, a festive air surrounded them. The scent of evergreen and cinnamon filled the space, and the anticipation was palpable.
Santa, with a hearty chuckle, welcomed them, "Ho, ho, ho! Well, hello there! Who do we have here?"
With a gentle smile, Harry bent down to encourage Sebastian onto Santa's lap. However, as Sebastian neared the red-suited figure, he clung tightly to Harry, his eyes wide with trepidation.
"S’okay, Seb. Santa's a friend," Harry reassured, attempting to ease his son's nervousness.
Sebastian, unconvinced, buried his face in Harry's shoulder, his tiny hands gripping onto his father's shirt. Santa, with a twinkle in his eye, chimed in,
"Ah, a little shy, are we? That's perfectly normal. How about we start with a high-five?" He extended a gloved hand toward Sebastian, hoping to initiate a connection.
Despite Santa's friendly gesture, Sebastian's anxiety escalated, and a whimper escaped him. Harry, now kneeling beside Santa's chair, continued to comfort his son,
"S’alright, buddy. Y’don't have t’do anything y’not comfortable with. Santa understands." However, as the tension lingered, Sebastian's anxiety reached its peak, and tears welled up in his eyes.
Santa, ever understanding, offered a warm smile, "No need to worry, little one. Sometimes meeting new friends can be a bit overwhelming. How about you tell me what you want for Christmas?”
In a last-ditch effort to salvage the moment, Harry took a seat on the chair next to Santa, with Sebastian on his lap. However, Sebastian, caught in the throes of a full-blown meltdown, wriggled and squirmed, attempting to escape the clutches of the man in the red suit.
The cheerful atmosphere of the grotto seemed to fade as Sebastian's desperation escalated.
Harry, his patience wearing thin, held onto his son, attempting to soothe the uncontrollable distress. The once-anticipated visit to Santa's lap had turned into a struggle, and Sebastian's tears mirrored the disappointment in the air.
The twinkling lights and festive decorations, which had captivated Sebastian earlier, were now lost in the midst of his overwhelming emotions.
Despite Harry's attempts to offer comfort, Sebastian's distress showed no signs of abating. The scene unfolded like a poignant tableau of a well-intentioned holiday moment gone awry.
The contrast between the joyful ambiance and Sebastian's emotional turmoil painted a bittersweet picture, one that highlighted the unpredictability of childhood emotions in the face of holiday expectations.
With Sebastian in the midst of a tearful meltdown, Harry looked apologetically at Santa, a mixture of frustration and regret etched on his face. "M’sorry. M’thought he'd be excited, but it seems like s’all a bit overwhelming f’him."
Santa, with a warm and understanding smile, nodded reassuringly. "No need to apologise,. Happens more often than you might think. Children, especially the little ones, can find meeting Santa a bit overwhelming. It's all part of the holiday experience."
In a gesture of comfort, Harry gently lifted Sebastian from his lap, cradling him in his arms. The tears continued to flow, and Sebastian sought solace in his father's embrace, burying his face in Harry's neck.
The soft strands of his long hair became a source of comfort as Sebastian clutched onto them, the rhythmic playing a small distraction from the overwhelming emotions.
Harry, his heart heavy with empathy, whispered reassurances to his son, "S’okay, buddy. Everything s’okay."
He swayed gently, attempting to ease Sebastian's distress. The bustling grotto faded into the background as the connection between father and son took center stage, the soothing hush of whispered comforts filling the air.
Sebastian's cries gradually softened, but he continued to hold onto his father, finding security in the familiar embrace. Harry, understanding the need for patience, remained steadfast, allowing the moment to unfold naturally.
Feeling the weight of Sebastian in his arms, Harry looked down at his tear-streaked face and whispered, "Shall we go home and see Mummy?"
Sebastian, still clinging to his father, nodded in response, his small thumb finding its way into his mouth. The simple gesture revealed a longing for the familiar comfort of home and the soothing presence of his mother.
With a shared understanding, Harry began to make his way out of the festive grotto, holding Sebastian close. The twinkling lights and holiday cheer gradually faded as they exited, leaving behind the whirlwind of emotions that had marked their encounter with Santa.
As they stepped into the crisp winter air, Harry tightened his grip on his son, ready to bring him back to the warmth and familiarity of home.
Sebastian's thumb remained in his mouth, a silent signal of the need for reassurance and comfort. Harry, with each step, whispered words of comfort, promising the solace of home and the embrace of Mummy waiting there.
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Broadway Divas Tournament: Round 3
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Aw, they're wearing matching glasses.
Two-time Tony-winning dancer-extraordinaire Bebe Neuwirth (1958) is best known for her winning role as Velma Kelly in Chicago (1996) alongside her beloved Annie Reinking. After playing Velma off-and-on for some years, she then took on Roxie, and later Matron "Mama" Morton. Bebe has also won for Sweet Charity (1986), and is a two-time Emmy winner for, of course, Lilith in Cheers. Other credits include Here Lies Jenny (2004), Fosse (2001), and Cabaret (2024), opening this week. In addition to her beloved stage, Bebe is a devoted cat-lover, and activist. She founded the Dancers' Resource program to provide support for injured and/or aging dancers.
THE Baker's Wife, Joanna Gleason (1950) is a Tony-winning legend who set a standard that has yet to even be approached. Her Baker's Wife in the original Into the Woods beat out Patti's Reno Sweeney, and Patti is still a little pissed off about it. She was also in infamous flop Nick & Nora (1991), Dirty Rotten Scoundrels (2005), and I Love My WIfe (1977). Nowadays, she devotes her focus to directing and screenwriting and her film The Grotto won Best Narrative Premiere at the Heartland Film Festival.
NEW PROPAGANDA AND MEDIA UNDER CUT: ALL POLLS HERE
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"Bebe Neuwirth, my beloved. Not even the droll charms of Joanna Gleason can entire me away from supporting you. As you all know, Bebe Neuwirth is my favorite Diva, and in my heart, she wins the whole tournament in a stunning no-contest sweep."
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"Do yourself a favor and go watch the full episodes of Joanna Gleason and Betty White facing off on Password Plus. Joanna being incredibly smart and competent at word games is hot to me."
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kararisa · 1 year
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marigold promises
— 08. twin pendants [☕︎ = 1.0k words]
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It feels like hours have passed while you and Albedo have been sitting in relative silence. And you're not sure how much longer you can stand it.
You had arrived just thirty minutes earlier, hoping to have some time to yourself in the grotto. Being a small area tucked inside the campus' much larger botanical garden, the grotto was the ideal place to study or hang out with friends that was out of the way of the usual foot traffic. With a strong internet connection, several picnic tables, lights dangling from the wooden beams above as vines creep onto the glass panes between them, and the general peacefulness of the area, who wouldn't want to stay here?
Unluckily for you, though, any hope of peace was taken away the moment you spotted Albedo already seated at a table, typing away on his laptop. You take the seat across from him and do your best to be… amicable. Any attempt at conversation with Albedo was quickly shut down by him though, so you simply took out your laptop and continued your homework. But now that you were finishing up on your Communications worksheet, what else would you have to distract yourself until the others arrived?
You take a moment to observe your surroundings — in the background, behind Albedo, stands the science department's greenhouse. You recall Tighnari's remarks that, while open to all students, some lessons were held there by specific lecturers. You wonder if you'll get the chance to sit among the lush flora again as you watch a few students stream out of the door.
It seemed like only yesterday that you entered the greenhouse for the first time to obtain your sample of a live plant during a lesson on lab etiquette with Professor Minci. Childe had nearly dropped two of his slides, but at least Albedo’s lab partner, Amber, was nice enough to sneak you one of her extra samples when prof wasn’t looking.
Your gaze shifts to the blond that sits across from you, the sunlight catching his silver pendant. A familiar silver pendant, one shaped like a moon.
The very pendant you bought when you were seven.
It was his idea, as many things were, to wear matching pendants. “A symbol of our friendship,” he once said as he handed you your pendant — your sun pendant, which now rests on a black cord wrapped twice around your wrist — a reminder of the past you once shared, a connection now severed.
The two of you had pooled together your own allowance to buy the pendants during a festival, the hot summer air doing nothing to quell your excitement as you picked out the matching accessories. You helped Albedo put on the necklace, laughing at something he said while he helped you with your bracelet. That day was long past you now, but one thing you remember vividly was a promise: to never take them off.
You’ve kept your end of the deal for more than a decade. And you can only wonder if he did the same all this time.
There were many things you’ve observed about Albedo every time you’ve fought with him over the past couple of months, but it never occurred to you to observe his necklace further. His cheerful smiles have turned into teasing smirks, you hear him scoff more than you hear him laugh, his once inviting teal eyes, ever inquisitive, now usually hold a gaze cold as ice. He likes to tie his hair back into a braided half ponytail, he keeps a pen tucked behind his ear, he still likes to fidget with his pendant. His moon pendant.
Some things never change, you suppose. But is that really a good thing?
“You’re staring, Cupcake,” Albedo’s voice interrupts your thoughts.
“Was not,” you say, looking straight at him.
“It’s hard to concentrate when I can practically feel your eyes on me,” amusement colors his voice as he rests his chin on his hand, “Am I really that captivating?”
“Your concentration must suck if all it takes is someone looking at you to break it.”
Albedo groans as he returns to typing, effectively ending the conversation. It’s just some matching jewelry, a bracelet and a necklace that you two like to wear, but is there nothing more to that? The likely answer is that the necklace is just what it is, a necklace. Nothing more, nothing less. Something for him to fidget with when his hands need something to do.
Sentimentality will be your downfall, you remind yourself. Doing your best to push that damn accessory out of your mind, you nearly miss the way Albedo glances at your bracelet.
“I do know what you were looking at, Cupcake. You’re not that slick,” Albedo says, “But… I never took mine off, just so you know.”
You raise an eyebrow at that, feigning ignorance.
"Make of that what you will."
How do you even respond to that? For every question you’ve answered about Albedo, three more seem to appear. A part of you is tempted to just ask him, seize the answers you want directly from the source.
Out of the many questions, though, seven little words seem to stand out: I miss you, do you miss me?
“I never took mine off either, Sunshine,” you don’t miss the way his eyes widened ever so slightly at what you said, “Make of that what you will.”
The friendship you two had in the past is long gone. So maybe you can settle for this — glares across lecture rooms, test scores, working together when necessary.
Your road to the top has been paved by countless nights spent studying, revising notes while sipping on coffee, flashcards scattered on your desk. This year — heck, this semester — has certainly been hard on you, but with your friends alongside you, and with a certain blond pushing you to do your best, maybe it’ll be alright.
When Gorou finally shows up, followed soon after by Mel and Aika, you’re grateful for the distraction.
“Sorry we’re late,” Gorou says, placing his bag on the table, “Should we get started?”
“We should probably let those two catch their breath first,” you laugh, gesturing to Aika and Mel.
“Not my fault someone decided to take a detour!” Aika says, elbowing Mel.
“Hey, I had a valid excuse!” Mel retorts.
Albedo smiles as he closes his laptop, “Let’s start in a couple of minutes, this shouldn’t take too long.”
Yes, this can work. As long as you don’t lose focus on your real goal: first place.
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— previous || masterlist || next
summary: it was evident that you and albedo have changed in the five years you’ve spent apart, but you know better than to view him through the lens of nostalgia. with one goal on your mind – graduate valedictorian – who better to stand in your way than the studious, intelligent, ice-cold albedo? one thing’s for sure: he’s going down.
author's notes: so i only have a couple of days until our school goes on break~ i also have the next handful of chapters drafted but since i'm in the middle of hell week i'm not sure when i'll next be able to post :( but anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this little written chapter
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alice-angel12x · 1 year
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I wonder what NRC's reaction would be meeting life for the first time?
Let's set the scene:
Far away deep in the hidden celestial forest, lies a hidden grotto. In the center was a simple shack, and inside was the god of Origin, Life. In the shack, tools and instruments lay scattered across the ground. On many shelves were both finished and unfinished clay sculptures. Beings that were not given the flames of life just yet. Around a cauldron were many different potions, herbal editions, and a large assortment of plants. And at the sketch table sat life. Paper and blueprints were scattered around him, all with failed Ideas of new life. The God Life sat and stared blankly at the blank parchment. He was having the work creative block, and the only thing he could draw was love hearts around a doodle of the apple of his eye, Y/n Death.
"Where did you disappear to this time Y/n," Life sighed in loneliness.
Life held out his hand as his staff floated over to him. With a soft tap, the staff tilted so that the orb was right in front of him. A couple of Sugar gliders helped him as they brought assortments of herbs and potions. Life gathered the ingredients into his hands and crushed them together. With a gentle breath, Life blew the ingredients into the orb.
The liquid in the orb began rapidly changing color, and swirling in the orb. In the light, Life saw an image of a castle with many statues.
"Night...Raven...College?" Life asked.
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(1 week later)
'' Well, this looks like the place,'' Life said as he stepped through the gate.
As he walked through he saw the statues of 7, each one he remember when they were just clay in his workshop. Though he was happy that they should so much talent, though he wished they used their talents differently.
As he walked toward the school, a bunch of Savanaclaw students stood in his way. They towered over them, as they took in this stranger's appearance. The lamb ears, Deer antlers, and tail, immediately identified him as an herbivore beastmen. Yet they have never seen one with hooved feet.
Life was unfazed by the intimidation attempt, and simply observed them till he finally spoke up.
"Excuse me gentlemen, but I am looking for a friend of mine. I think they attend this school?" Life asked politely.
"Did you hear him?" Student A mocked.
"Gentlemen, He thinks he's so fancy," Student B laughed.
Life just stared in surprised disappointment, just questioning what is up with these generations of Humans and Beastmen. The poor God thinking these boys were a lost cause decided to ask for help from someone else. Someone less, beastly.
"Well, I guess you don't have the answers I seek. I wish you a good day, young fledglings," Life bowed as he tried to walk around the delinquent boys.
But the delinquents didn't let him pass as they grabbed him by the antlers. The commotion got the attention of many of the other students.
"I bet you are an RSA spy," Student C spat.
"Yeah you and your posh classmates," Student A growled.
Life winced slightly but didn't cry out in pain even after the harsh tug. The accusation of this antlered person sparked a rivalry flame, as the students gathered around. Cheering for the students to bet up the "RSA" guy.
Life looked around with a disappointed glare. "Please let go of my Antler. Grabbing someone like this is incredibly rude," Life said calmly, but sternly.
Sadly this only annoyed the aggressive students, as one tried to through through a punch. But Life quickly yanked his head, pulling the boy holding his antlers off his feet. To slam the boy into his attacker. The third guy tried to guy Life from behind, but Life used the bottom of his staff and jabbed him hard in the stomach. When the boy clutched his tummy, life flipped his staff to use the hook to throw the boy in front of him.
The first boy tried his luck again, only for Life to kick him hard in the jewels with his powerful legs. The crowd cringed as they could feel the pain just by watching. Student B growled at Life baring his teeth, only for the being to return in kind. Showing just how much larger and sharper his carnivore teeth are.
Life grabbed the student by the collar of his shirt and effortlessly lifted the muscular boy off the ground.
"I wish to ask again. I am Looking for Y/n of Death," Life said gravely.
Suddenly Life dropped the boy as someone jumped down between them. When the dust cleared Life could see who this was.
"Life?" asked a familiar voice.
"H-hey, Y/n you know that...guy?" Ace asked.
"Yes, he is a good friend of mine. He is the very embodiment of life itself-" Y/n was suddenly cut off When they were pulled into a sudden bear hug.
"Death, it's so good to see you, I missed you so much," Life gushed as he rubbed his cheek against theirs.
Y/n didn't seem bothered, but Everyone was just having a huge cause of emotional whiplash.
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lfc21 · 1 year
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Christmas lights - Day 9
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TW : Fluff
Summary : putting up the Christmas lights was never easy especially when you had the tallest yet clumsiest husband in the world.
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You rolled up the long drive way up to your home. It was a drive you took so regularly. A drive that made everything feel so familiar and safe. Your eyes followed along the dark grey gravel up to your large white house. As your eyes viewed what was so normal, they suddenly came across what could only be described as a disaster waiting to happen. Virgil was never good at the art of decorating he was far too big and far too clumsy. He often ended up nocking everything over with his large hands or tripping over something his large legs couldn't compete with; the sight of him putting up Christmas decorations was unexpectedly the worst possible activity. You quickly parked the car into your usual spot and jumped out with a matter of great urgency.
"Virg, what are you doing?" You quickly asked with a laugh as you looked up at the large man on an even larger ladder. The more you looked up at the man using full effort into putting lights across the house, the more you felt fear rip into your stomach. It's not that you didn't trust him, well. You did trust him, but you definitely didn't trust him when he told you he wouldn't hurt himself or wouldn't break something rather expensive.
"I'm putting the lights up," he said with an obvious tone. You did see how silly your question was, but you didn't understand what other words were alright to use in this situation.
"Well, yeah, I can see that! But how on earth have you not tangled yourself yet?" You quickly asked back with a slight laugh and a tight smile at the fear you were feeling just by looking at him.
"Trust me, babe! I will do it, no problem" he said with his cocky personality shining through. You could never argue with his winning attitude. It was his way or the highway. "Anyway where have you been?" He casually added as if he wasn't half way up the side of your house.
"Seriously darling?" You asked with raised eyebrows and a dry laugh.
"What?" He asked with a chuckle as he reached over to huck another set of lights onto the wall.
"Is now really the time for you to be asking where I have been when you are climbing up the side of our house?" You said adding another question to your rather long and rather annoying game of who can ask the most questions in one conversation.
"Actually, this is the front of the house, not the side of the house," he shouted, correcting your very own words. You rolled your eyes and started to take the shopping out of your car boot and place it into the house. You had a slight incline that he would be OK. You hoped.
As soon as all of your bags were unpacked and there was no mess in your house, you decided to take a look outside. It was now dark, the stars were one of the only few sources of light in your city. There had been no shouting, screaming, or crying heard from virgil, so you were sure he was doing just fine or had fallen down.
"Babe how is it go-" you started until stopping your sentence when your eyes met the magical wonderland that was your front garden. There where white lights spread across every window and all around the roof. Your eyes held the sight of what could only be described as Santa's grotto. You quickly turned to virgil where he was gently placing two large reindeers on the grass just outside. "Oh my god!" You quickly shouted with a huge grin when he stood up.
"You like?" He asked as he ran his hand through his slick bun.
"I love" you cheered with a laugh as you ran to his large frame and jumped onto his hips. His arms held tightly around you as his eyes looked up at yours.
"All for my girl," virgil sweetly said with a kiss on your lips and glow in his eyes. Your hands were tightly wrapped around the back of his neck as your fingers aimlessly tickled the back off his neck, where his dark hair met his perfectly soft skin. You where both so aware that you where stood in the cold English weather but you couldn't help but want to enjoy this moment for as long as possible.
"Thank you virg" you quickly replied with a smile as your lips fell back onto his just like the magnets they usually are.
"I think you could thank me in other ways," virgl said back as he winked towards you and put you back down onto the floor. You simply took his hand and led him into your large front door with small giggles falling from your mouth. Christmas lights were magic perfect, and held so many amazing memories.
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This is day 9 of my advent calendar 📅 I really hope you have enjoyed reading this and I hope you enjoyed your day 😊 thank you so so much for the support ❤️ please leave feedback and requests as they are greatly appreciated 🥰 thank you 😊 have a good day 😆 merry Christmas 🎄 masterlist
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moorishflower · 2 years
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So are Dream and Death still siblings in your siren!Dream au?
yes and no! yes, in that Death is sibling to EVERYONE. and mother, and daughter, and friend. but is she the same thing as Dream? no. is she SIMILAR? yes! my kind of vague headcanon is that they share some distant ancestry, that somewhere far back when Night and Time had children, they had Death and Destiny and Destruction, and then further along the line Night had other children NOT with Time, and from that lineage sprung up Desire, Despair, and Delirium. It's all very Greek lineage sort of thing lol.
A whale has fallen.
In the deep depths, in the crushing dark, where no light touches, where air vents from heated cracks within the stone, the whale drifts down. Somewhere within its cavernous chest a heart still beats, thready and inconsistent, struggling, as all living things struggle, to keep going. Until the last. Until the final breath. The great undoing.
Endless Dream follows its path with interest. A whale is a fine gift from the sea, and though it's not a sacrifice to him, he will gladly partake of its flesh when it settles.
He is hungry. Has been hungry, for the past few days, his stomach shrinking and clawing, his teeth made wet with wanting. Yet fish have held no interest for him -- stupid, flickering things, easy to catch, easy to swallow whole. There is no challenge to the hunting of them. There have been no challenges for many ebbing and flowing of the tides.
Until the man.
The man who'd walked into the sea, who'd made of himself a fine meal for sharks, who Dream had pulled into his grotto thinking that it had been long since he had tasted the flesh of humans, and this one was still warm, even, still soft and nearly living, and then the man had breathed. Gouted water from his lungs, with Dream's teeth still sunk into the tender meat of his limb, and the blood in his mouth had been so hot. Not the blood of a fresh corpse, but sweet and living and vital. It had slid down his throat like a wriggling eel, made a nest in his gullet, curled around and around, and now his stomach is bloated with the emptiness of it. With the severity of how much he wants.
The man had been dead. He'd seen it. He'd known it. And then the man was alive.
He follows the path of the whale, until it settles on a rocky shelf near the deep dark, and there the scavengers emerge. Dream watches them but does not see them. All of his focus is upon the whale, its massive eye, its laboring heart.
It takes long minutes for the eye to go blank, but when it does, Dream reaches for it immediately, carves into the socket and wicks away the bone with practiced claws. The eye pops free into his palm, ragged, full of succulent flavor. He does not bite.
"Teleute," he calls out, his voice a ripple in the water, "here, for you, an offering. Choice flesh. Sweetness."
"You know you don't have to do that," he hears, and swings around, and smiles with his skin, a flare of sunset yellow that licks along his cheeks and splashes cheerful upon the scavengers below.
"I know," he says, and holds out to Death the eye, and, after a long moment, she takes it from him. All of her forms are beautiful, but Dream is proud and selfish, and thinks this form most pleasing of all: her night-dark skin glowing from within with radiant luminescence, speckles of silver that dot her cheeks like freckles, her long and shapely tail, the bright-lit lure that hangs before her sharp and smiling mouth.
"How goes the ocean?" she asks, rolling the eye between her palms, and Dream slips forward through the drifting current, lets it carry him gently onwards. The whale holds little interest now. Perhaps he will return later, and dig into its soft belly, and at last sate his hunger.
He thinks nothing can sate this hunger.
"It goes," he says, and Death laughs.
"Well, you called to me for something, little one."
Dream's tentacles writhe and grasp. One reaches for his own hand, instinctive in its desire to hold, and he allows it. Lets the searching suckers kiss between his fingers, and remembers the warmth of the man beneath his many limbs.
"There was a man," he says, and Death tilts her head, and the lure bobs appealingly. "I watched him drown. I took him to my grotto to eat. And then he came back. He breathed again."
"Did he have kind eyes?" Death asks, and Dream does not know how to quantify the kindness of eyes, and so says nothing. "A sweet voice? Dark brown hair?"
"His blood was warmth and light," Dream offers, and Death laughs.
"Probably Robert Gadling, then. I think he's the only immortal who's at sea right now. How did he take to dying?"
"He was on an island. He walked into the sea."
"Ah, bad luck, there. Wonder who marooned him."
"He is one of yours? Then I will not touch him." The thought is unbearable agony. He had followed the man down into the depths -- he had dragged his body to the safety of his grotto. He set his teeth into the sweet flesh. By rights, the man is his.
But Death is so much older. So much more than him. If she has claimed him...
"You can do whatever you like," she says, and Dream feels the effervescent lilt of bubbles in his breast. "I mean, I don't know if he cares to be eaten. But Hob makes his own choices. He'll find you again, if he wants to spend time with you."
"Spend time," Dream repeats.
"Yeah, he's a bit of a romantic, I think. That's the feeling I got, anyways. I warned him that immortality was going to make him a bit spotty in the head, but now I'm wondering if he's always been that way, and this is the best thing for him."
"Then he cannot die?"
"Not unless he asks for it."
They drift together for a time, in companionable silence. Death brings the eye to her mouth, and when she bites it releases plumes of blood and humor into the sea; Dream tastes it with his skin, the richness of it, can imagine the firm crunch and the soft jelly inside.
It holds no interest. His stomach begs for sunlit warmth, for the tang of copper and iron, for the one that Death calls Hob.
"Thank you for answering my call," he says at last, and Death holds out the other half of the eye, raising her brows. Dream shakes his head.
"If you stay in one place," she says, her voice teasing and sweet, "he'll find you again."
"You think so?"
"Oh, yes. He cheated at our card game. I think he's never seen something dangerous that he didn't end up wanting with his whole heart. And there's nothing more dangerous in the sea than you."
"Flattery."
"Truth. From one child of monsters to another."
Dream clicks his teeth, and he is proud, and he is selfish, and he is, stupidly, pleased. The thought that Hob Gadling might return, and think him interesting, and perhaps bring with him his rich-golden blood and the taut muscles of his limbs, and if Dream is sweet, perhaps, if Dream makes himself pleasing, if he brings to Hob the beautiful things of the sea, smooth coral and sunken treasures, perhaps, perhaps, Hob will let him taste of him again, will let a bite become a kiss...
Death laughs. "Oh, you two are going to be fun to watch. Pursue him with my blessing, Endless Dream."
"Thank you," Dream says. His skin flickers in shades of red and pink, before settling, at last, again, to white. "Sister. Grandmother. Family. Thank you."
"Don't mention it," she says. "I don't need to know what you two get up to."
Dream nods, and takes the other half of the whale's eye at last. When he bites into it, the juice is sweet and lovely on his tongue, and it is not what he wants, but now he knows.
He only has to wait, and the longing cramp in his belly will at last be appeased.
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tobiasdrake · 4 months
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So, if I know my Mesa Island geography, we should be getting pretty close to Songshroom Marsh. Wonder if Yoyo's still hanging around here?
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That's, uh... that's... not an ominous name or anything....
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This place... doesn't seem quite as fun as Luana made it sound.
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Okay, full disclosure, I was actually trying to drown myself in the mire because I want to tell Quarble about all the cool stuff I did.
But this is cool too. I guess the moral of the story is that sometimes attempted suicide comes with neat prizes. If they ever write a fable about all the things I learned on my travels, I'll be sure to include that.
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Holy shit, the Magic Seashell? The one from Watcher Island that lets you breathe underwater?
Wait, no, I can already do that for some reason. Plus, it doesn't really look that cute. Luana said it was a cute pink clamshell thing. She was very excited about it. But this more resembles a slug.
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That does sound like it relates to the magic Docarri shells, though. Hmm....
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Yeah. Uh. What the hell happened to this place? Luana didn't like it very much but what she described pales in comparison to how tortured and gross the marsh is.
Also, she called it Songshroom but the sign at the entrance said Quillshroom. So. Obviously some changes have taken place.
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Oh, is it the cool magic seashell I found? 'Cause I found it. You can't have it back. It's mine now, as laid down in the Mine Now, Fucko bylaw.
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Primal Fear... fuck, I know that name. It's... somewhere. Maybe one of Teaks's stories? I don't know. I've heard it before. I know I've heard it before.
No, wait! It was one of the volumes of prophecy that Yoyo kept in her cabin. She had a book on Primal Fear. That's where I know the name from.
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Is. That. Where the living mushrooms come from?
...Luana wrote about them singing. The ones I've seen have not been singing. I don't think they're enjoying their fungal lives anymore.
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With gusto.
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I can't believe you told me to fight it! Do you have any idea how humiliated I was!? That was the most embarrassing moment of my goddamn life.
And I once screwed up Cloudstep practice so hard I ended up dangling from a tree branch by my pants around my ankles. I met Quarble on a return trip through a challenge I'd already solved. So the competition is steep.
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How many times have you sent members of my order to their graves to pick a fight with a harmless glowball minding his fucking business!?
FUCK. No wonder Luana called probably-you an assclown!
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WHAT. NO. I don't really see much relevance or importance in your stories - I think the pear tree one might have been about Yoyo maybe? - but I've been enjoying them nonetheless.
I'll stop touching your cabinet if you keep sharing stories with me. ._. Pweese?
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Oh, there's the singing mushrooms. Okay, so they are still here.
They. Uh. They don't look very cheerful, though. Luana said they were cheerful.
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Gotta say, not a fan of the titular quillshrooms. Their quills are incredibly difficult to dodge, especially when they fire while I'm in midair. What total assholes.
As a botanophobe, I can't be surprised by this, but fungus is far more dangerous than turtles.
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...how stupid do I feel like being today?
I am... passably competent at the Cloudstep. I think I could--
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Okay, I want it on record that I actually made it, but was killed by a Quillshroom afterwards. After being thoroughly tenderized by spikes in the process of making it but that's beside the point. The point is I'm awesome and this is definitely going down as a W in my book.
Not important. What's important is HEY BESTIE, check out where we are? Yeah, that's right, I'm blazing trails through Quillshroom Marsh with my expert jumping and profound getting-stabbed proficiencies.
I know we were in Howling Grotto last we talked but I... found the exit of my own accord and nothing else happened. Now we're here. Trying to not be here as expediently as possible because I don't want to be a mushroom.
...
Why is this my life?
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...we've found one secret path beneath the mire. I wonder... This does look very suspicious.
They thought they could hide their secrets from me. Joke's on them, I am highly skilled in observation and pattern recog--
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I think I hate this place.
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superman86to99 · 9 months
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Super Titles Round-Up (May 1994)
This month: Superboy gets animated! Supergirl gets even! Steel gets that cool-ass Jon Bogdanove cover up there!
Superboy #4 (May 1994)
Superboy is pretty sick due to that pesky Clone Plague running through the Superman titles, so his friends try to cheer him up by showing him the pilot episode for Superboy: The Animated Series. The episode is about two villains called Lock 'n' Lode trying to kill Superboy's manager, Rex Leech, depicted as a handsome "philanthropist and adventurer" in the show (because he's the one who paid for it). Meanwhile, Dubbilex appears as Rex's "wacky telepathic D.N.Alien butler" and Roxy Leech as an "undulating mass of primordial slime," which neither of them appreciates.
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The animated scenes are drawn by late Batman Adventures artist Mike Parobeck in that classic broad-chinned Bruce Timm style, so this issue serves as kind of a preview for the other animated-style DCU titles that would come later in the decade (I always thought it was funny that Superboy got an "animated" design before Superman himself did). Anyway, in the show, Lock 'n' Load are defeated thanks to Rex's cleverness, mastery of geometry, and flawless marksmanship, though Superboy helps too. We even get a happy ending for Roxy, as an accident in the "Super-Grotto" causes her to evolve into fungus.
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Unfortunately, things are less cheerful in the real world, since the issue ends with Superboy collapsing in the kitchen and his friend Tana remarking that he's not breathing. TO BE CONTINUED!
Supergirl #4 (May 1994)
Final issue! After finding out that Lex Luthor Jr. has been playing her for a gosh-danged fool all these years, the all-new, all-edgy Supergirl goes around the world torching Lex's properties (after making sure all employees have evacuated them, because she's still a sweetheart deep down). Lex figures out what Supergirl is doing and sets an explosive trap in one of his properties that leaves her as a pool of protoplasmic goo on the ground.
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But Supergirl was only playing dead, so she uses the fact that Lex thinks he killed her to surprise him at LexCorp Tower. However, once she reaches Lex's office, Supergirl finds out that the red-haired adonis she was expecting to see has been replaced with a frail bald guy in a floating wheelchair. The shock of seeing Lex like that makes Supergirl drop her guard for a moment, which is enough for him to try to kill her again. Lex crawls into his Team Luthor armor for protection, but an even-more-pissed-off Supergirl tears him out and actually throws him through a window to a certain death.
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For better or worse, Superman shows up just in time to save Lex, even though he looks like he might drop dead any second anyway. Supergirl is shocked to learn that Lex wasn't lying about his sickness, especially because she would have gladly helped him if he'd just asked her instead of sneakily cloning her to try to make a cure. Supergirl morphs back into her old self as she flies away in tears.
In the epilogue, the Kents let Supergirl know she's very welcome to come live with them again, but she decides she wants to travel the world and grow as a person/sentient lump of protomatter. The miniseries ends a few months later, with Supergirl going to Paris to reunite with Lex's ex-wife Elizabeth Perske, who agrees to be her new mentor. Perske will appear in a few issues of Supergirl's solo series, but the more interesting part in this flash-forward is the mention that U.S. Congress has "passed a measure approving aid for strife-torn Metropolis." Look out for some strife in the main Superman comics, coming soon!
Steel #4 (May 1994)
Steel's evil former employers at Amertek want to get back at him for destroying their headquarters last issue, so they hit him at a place where they know he'll be: at the funeral for a kid who died during a gang fight due to their weapons. Did I mention they're evil? They send a shirtless dude hopped up on Tar, the drug that turns people into Rob Liefeld characters, to crash the funeral, and since John Henry doesn't have his armor on, he has to hit the attacker with church pews until the drug runs out. (Would have been cool if he'd built himself a new armor out of church pews on the spot.)
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The attack intensifies the gang war going on in the tough streets of D.C., resulting in another little kid getting shot (an adorable boy named Paco who wanted to be a gang member when he grew up). Then, the issue ends with John's niece Natasha getting ran over by a gang member's car as she's going to the hospital to see Paco. I have a feeling this comic is trying to tell us something about gangs, but I'm not sure what it is.
Oh, yeah, this issue also features a cameo by Lois Lane: John calls her (at home, since she was just fired by the Daily Planet) to figure out what he can do with the CD full of incriminating evidence he got from Amertek's HQ. She hooks him with her college roommate, policewoman/hacker Shauna Beryl (the lady on the cover up there), who will become a recurring character in this comic.
The Ray #1 (May 1994)
In the first issue of his solo series, Ray "The Ray" Terrill takes a trip to Hawaii on the same day that a little troll creature prays to Darkseid next to a volcano, causing a giant lava monster called Brimstone to emerge (Darkseid created a previous incarnation of Brimstone during the Legends crossover). Superboy shows up to help fight Brimstone, but instead of working together, Ray spends most of the issue thinking about how much he hates this kid and calling him a cheap poser. Eventually, after Brimstone has been "defeated," Superboy has enough and punches Ray to finally get him to shut up.
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By the way, this issue and the next one are supposed to take place between Superboy #3 and #4, meaning that Superboy was already seriously ill while fighting Brimstone, so I don't blame him for losing his patience with this hater. Ray then hits Superboy back with a big blast of energy and looks mighty smug for a moment... until he notices that Superboy isn't moving or breathing. Yes, that's two comics in one month that end with someone yelling that Superboy is apparently dead. Oh, and then Brimstone wakes up. TO BE CONTINUED, TOO!
Damage #1 (April 1994)
I missed this issue during the April '94 round-up (shout out to Neil in the comments for alerting me of its existence!), so here it goes. Our old pal Metallo is the main villain in the first issue of this series, which is about a wimpy kid called Grant Emerson who occasionally has bursts of explosive strength that allow him to total cars with his fists. Some mysterious villains broke Metallo out of Stryker's Island and gave him a new giant body just to send him to kill Grant at his school. The most interesting part for me is that this backstory is told in the same format as Metallo's backstory in John Byrne's Superman #1, with the green flashback panels at the end of every row.
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Damage defeats Metallo, but also destroys his entire school in the process, and then other villains show up to capture him… but that has nothing to do with Superman, so it's none of our business.
NOTE: Our post about Adventures of Superman #512 went up earlier this week, check it here out if you missed it!
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neonponders · 2 years
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Inspired by this gif set of baby Dacre ~
Harringrove Dads
• • •
Steve has a sixth sense for when his boys are fighting. While he unconsciously counts dollars from his wallet for the ice cream vendor, he peeks over at Billy standing toe to toe with their son, Indie.
The theme park around them splashes the situation with ironically cheerful music, adrenaline screaming, and mechanical white noise. Steve finishes paying for the three sorbet pops and pockets his wallet before coming to stand in between his husband and the much younger, spinning image of Billy.
“Gentlemen? What’s going on?”
Indie sighed like a puppy: full chested and very much like his daddy as matching dark lashes blinked over striking blue eyes. “I don’t want to go on Haunted Mansion.”
Billy countered, “The line for Splash Mountain is too long and Haunted Mansion is inside. Plus they added water works to the waiting area. You’re overheating and need to cool off.”
Steve knelt beside their boy and unwrapped one of the sorbet pops. “I’ve gotta agree with daddy on this one. We can do Splash Mountain during the parade. The line will be shorter since half the park will be watching the parade.”
“But I wanna see the parade!”
“The Splash Mountain line is outside. We will be able to see it,” Steve navigated, telling himself it wasn’t a lie since technically the parade did pass by the waiting area. Sort of.
Steve’s finger tips raked through his son’s dark tresses. The tips faded to blond like his daddy’s, but the bulk of it was brown like his own. He slotted a hair clip over his fringe with practiced ease. Indie didn’t even notice.
He had the naturally rouged cheeks of his daddy, but this was something else. Summer heat and humidity had infused their son’s face within an hour of arriving at the park. Steve handed the other two pops to Billy while he poured their water bottle over a towel designed to stay cold for days like this. Steve tied it like an ascot around Indie’s neck while the latter grumpily tasted his sorbet.
Steve considered their options and realized that another ride very similar to Haunted Mansion existed. “We could do the Little Mermaid ride instead. It’s on the other side of the park, so the line will be short.”
Indie gasped, dark cloud completely gone from his face despite his tone warning otherwise. “Okay...”
Without further ado, Billy scooped him up, clutching him tight against his body so the kid wouldn’t spike his body temperature just by walking. Steve poured the rest of the water bottle over his head and shook like a dog, eliciting annoyed giggles from his boys and solidly dispelling the tension.
Steve’s hand slid over his husband’s shoulder blade, silently thanking him for his patience. Indie was a lot for both of them, but things were a little harder for Billy. Neither of them could’ve guessed that the surrogacy process would reap the results of a kid that grew into the spitting image of Billy, but here they were.
Billy was careful. So, so careful from the moment he realized that their baby’s eyes weren’t changing colors. They would stay blue, and not just any blue. His blue.
Steve knows Billy would love the kid regardless of what they looked like, but having a walking, talking mirror of himself was a challenge Billy hadn’t been ready to face. So many parents, with their unsolicited advice, had said that there was always one kid in the bunch who was sent by whatever god to be the personal challenge for a parent.
Steve hated advice. As far as he was concerned, it took a village, and Billy wasn’t going to deal with his demons alone, much less inflict them on a fresh soul.
So they walked through the shaded grotto that was the waiting area, and then hopped into the pearly pink clam shell that cruised through the animatronic retelling of The Little Mermaid. Indie made them ride it three times, until the crowded park finally discovered the other side of the map and made the line a nuisance.
Then they got Lunch, and Steve hoisted Indie onto his shoulders to watch the parade - at least the section with his favorite characters. Then they went on Splash Mountain, where Billy took off the cooling ascot so it wouldn’t get doused in swamp water. “We don’t want you smelling like Shrek for the rest of the day.”
They missed the fireworks. And they didn’t go on Haunted Mansion. Indie slept with his cheek dislodged on Billy’s shoulder while his daddy held a protective towel over his son’s head as they walked to the car.
“Do you think he’s afraid of the Mansion?” Steve asked, extracting the car keys from his backpack.
Billy smirked. “Probably. It’s the stretch room right at the beginning that messed him up last time. That and the creepy bride that tells us to bring our death certificate next time.”
“I don’t like the stretch room either,” Steve admitted.
Billy moved the towel just enough to kiss his son’s hair. Brown, floppy tresses like his poppy. “My claustrophobic boys. Maybe when he’s older, you can both get over that.”
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liaromancewriter · 1 year
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Santa Baby
Premise: When Sienna takes her daughter to meet Santa, things take a turn for the bizarre.
Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Sienna Trinh x Max Valentine (M!OC); feat. OC children Rating/Category: General. Fluff. Words: 1,580
A/N: This was a request from @trappedinfanfiction​, Prompt 9 from this list. Sorry it took me a while to figure out what to do and for which pairing.
Submission for @choicesficwriterscreations Holiday event and @choicesholidays Week 5 “Save Christmas”. Also submitting to @choicesdecember2022​ Day 22 prompt “Everything will be alright.”
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The shopping mall was decked out for the season. The holiday shoppers largely ignored Christmas music piped through the overhead speakers as they rushed to complete their to-do lists.
The line to Santa’s grotto was long, and distracted parents corralled their overly eager children. Children of various ages bubbled over in excitement at seeing Santa and telling him exactly what they wanted for Christmas. 
A little boy, about six years old, took out a crumbled list from his pocket and scanned it for the third time, anxious to not have left anything out.
The four-year-old girl waiting behind him wasn’t so excited as she was determined. Her small hand was tucked inside her mother’s larger one, and her green eyes were locked on Santa. 
He was sitting on a throne-like chair on the stage. Like a king, she thought. There was another chair right next to him, and that’s where everyone else sat when it was their turn.
She was not feeling the holiday cheer. Her shoulders were slumped, but her body vibrated with impatience as she scuffed her pink sneakers against the floor.
The boy in front of her shuffled forward, and she hoped he wouldn’t take too long. She had a lot to discuss with Santa and wouldn’t be rushed!
Sienna Valentine (née Trinh) couldn’t help but feel her mood lift at the holiday spirit in the air. She loved this time of year, always had. The only thing that would’ve made it better was Max returning early from his business trip. But his text earlier this morning saying he’d been delayed kiboshed that hope.
She looked down at the top of her daughter’s sunny head, and her heart filled with love.  Amelia was the only one of their children that had inherited Max’s blond hair and green eyes, the soft curls a throwback to his grandmother, Myra.
Amelia’s shoulders were slightly hunched in dejection, and her expression was likely still morose. But at least she wasn’t quietly weeping anymore as she had when Sienna gave her the news earlier.
She knew Amelia had been looking forward to doing this with her dad, and she was likely a poor substitute. Still, she was determined to ensure her daughter enjoyed herself.
In a way, she was glad that Noah and Isabelle didn’t want to come. Amelia would get her alone time with Santa and not share it with the others. It was easy for a shy and quiet child like Amelia to feel lost when the others were around.
Thirty minutes later, they were finally at the top of the line. Amelia was next.
“Are you excited to meet Santa, honey?” Sienna asked softly, sighing in dismay when Amelia just shrugged.
She crouched down to adjust her daughter’s headband and then the straps of her corduroy overalls, making sure they were buttoned up tight. Amelia liked to tuck her thumbs into the straps, which tended to loosen them whenever she pulled.
“Next!”
Sienna kept Amelia’s hand in hers as she helped her up the short steps leading up the stage. She started to lift her up and set her down on the adjoining chair, but Amelia pulled away.
“I can do it by myself, Mommy,” she said resolutely. “I’m four and three-quarters now.”
She quickly climbed up on the chair, pushing against her feet to boost herself up, and tucked herself against the plush back. Amelia folded her hands in her lap and twisted sideways to face the old man in the Santa suit.
Sienna left her daughter to join the elf-costumed helper below the stage, standing behind a tripod and camera. Even in her wildest dreams, she could not have imagined what would happen next.
“Ho, ho, ho. Have you been good this year, little girl?” Santa asked, his voice booming across the stage as he leaned down and smiled at her.
Amelia gazed into the kind, blue eyes and decided this was the best idea she’d ever had.
“I’ve been good, Santa, but my brother and sister could use some work,” Amelia nodded, her voice solemn.
When Santa continued smiling, Amelia figured that was all the permission she needed to keep going. She placed her hand on Santa’s arm and giggled at the soft, white fluffy material that tickled her palm.
And then she leaned closer and said in a quiet, serious voice. “Noah won’t play with me, Santa. He’s my bigger brother, and he said I’m a baby and can’t play video games with him.”
“I see,” Santa said, nodding in understanding. “How about you….”
“I’m not done,” Amelia cut in, determined to get it all out. “Belle won’t let me touch her crayons. She said I always lose them and then cry about it, so I can’t borrow ‘em anymore.”
Amelia paused and then thought Santa might not know who Belle was. “She’s my bigger sister. You know her as Isabelle. We all call her Belle, like the Disney princess.”
Her face fell as she suddenly remembered she’d lost a red crayon yesterday that her sister hadn’t noticed yet. She was pretty sure it had rolled under her bed but was too scared to check. The monster had likely eaten it by now, anyway.
“Anyways,” she continued, shrugging that particular worry away. “She said I was a pain in her bottom, only she used the bad word. I didn’t tell Mommy ‘cos I don’t want Belle to get into trouble. Does that make me a bad girl?”
Her tone was worried as she thought about it some more. Was Santa more important than Mommy? Santa must have understood because he looked worried too.
“Well,” he began, stopped, and scratched his head before continuing. “You know what? I think you did the right thing, and that makes you good. Now, how about we talk about your….”
“Did I tell you my Daddy was ‘spose to bring me to see you? He promised! But then Mommy said she would take me because he’s traveling for work. I don’t want him to miss Chris’mas too. You have to fix it right now!”
“Don’t worry so,” Santa said. “I’m sure your dad won’t miss the holiday. Not when he knows you’re waiting for him. But at least you have your mom, and I’m sure she’ll make Christmas fun.”
Amelia thought about that for a second and then wrinkled her nose. “I guess, but she doesn’t always listen to me, not like she does Noah. I told her I wanted to wear my best dress to come see you. It’s green and has red sparkles on it. But she said it was too cold outside, and I had to wear this instead.”
She glanced down at her outfit — a purple sweater and pink overalls. At least it had two of her favorite colors, but it was not nearly as pretty as the green dress with the skirt that danced around her knees when she spun around in circles.
“Well, I think that’s a pretty outfit, too,” Santa said kindly. “Now, is there something special you want for Christmas?”
Amelia let out a plaintive cry. “Pay attention, Santa! I already told you. I want my Daddy to come home.”
Below the stage just across from them, Sienna stood frozen in shock. Her mouth was open as she listened to her daughter tell Santa everything on her mind. Mortified beyond belief, she groaned aloud and frantically glanced around, hoping none of the other parents could hear.
Of course, the man in the elf costume standing beside her had heard everything. But he’d likely heard worse; at least, she hoped he had. His expression had gone from surprise to bewilderment to trying to hold back his laughter the longer the conversation continued.
When Santa threw her a panicked look, Sienna’s legs unfroze, and she rushed up the stage to grab Amelia.
“I’m so sorry…” she began, embarrassed.
She reached for Amelia only to have her daughter scramble back and away from her hands.
“I’m not done, Mommy! I still have to tell Santa about Bailey. She’s our dog,” Amelia added, turning toward Santa. “Do you bring presents for dogs? Bailey is a good dog; maybe you can put something small in your sack. She likes milk bone treats.”
“Amelia Mai Valentine, that’s enough,” Sienna said sternly. “Other people are waiting. Say thank you to Santa, and let’s go.”
“But Mommy…”
Amelia’s voice trailed away when she recognized that look on her mother’s face. She looked up at Santa, smiled and then patted his hand. “Thank you, Santa. If you can also bring me a bicycle, I promise to be good next year too.”
“I’ll try my best,” he said, glancing quickly at Mommy and then back at her. His blue eyes behind the glasses twinkled when he smiled. “Tell Noah and Belle that I’m watching them. They’ll be nice to you then.”
“You were listening!” Amelia exclaimed as she jumped off the chair and hugged his knees. “Bye, Santa.”
She tucked her hand in her mom’s and followed her off the stage. She peeked over her shoulder as they reached the grotto’s exit and saw Santa was still watching her. She lifted her hand to wave at him, and he waved back.
By the time they left the mall, Amelia felt happier than she had all day. Santa would take care of everything. He would save Christmas. With Santa on the case, she just knew it would be the best one ever!
Bonus
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All Fics & Edits: @a-crepusculo​ @annfg8​ @bex-la-get​ @bluebelle08​ @cariantha​ @choicesaddict5​ @coffeeheartaddict2​ @crazy-loca-blog​ @doriopenheart​ @genevievemd​ @headoverheelsforramsey​ @lucy-268​ @jamespotterthefirst​ @jerzwriter​ @mysticalgalaxysstuff​ @openheartforeverinmyheart​ @peonierose​ @takemyopenheart​ @potionsprefect​ @queencarb​ @quixoticdreamer16​ @rookiemartin​ @trappedinfanfiction​ @vi-writes-stuff​ @zahrachoices​
Submissions: @openheartfanfics​
Max & Sienna only: @aallotarenunelma​
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brattata · 2 years
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Genshin MerHusbands: Childe
Let's just pretend it's still MerMay, alright?
A little bit of NSFT Sharktaglia x female reader below the cut.
Part 2 with Orcaeya HERE
CW: Teratophilia (obviously), Childe is a little pushy, referenced/implied double penetration
It’s not the first time you’ve had a lover’s face between your legs, but the others didn’t stare at you the way Childe is now.
“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” you balk. Before you can so much as twitch a muscle, his damp, ice-cold hands are prying your thighs even farther apart.
“Aww, don’t lose your nerve on me!” he chuckles. “No need to be shy! I’m just admiring.” He leans his cheek against your inner thigh and trails a chilly fingertip down the seam of your lower lips. “You’re different down here, but I like it. Pretty, like a cowrie shell.”
“Um, thanks,” you mumble. You take a slow, shuddering breath and relax against the cool stone. Reflected light paints the walls of the grotto in shifting colors, stirred up by the wavelets radiating out from Childe’s slick, powerful gray tail.
“It’s even prettier inside.” His voice is lower, warmer as he delicately spreads you further for his curious eyes. “And…huh. Two holes?” He prods you curiously, and not-so gently, making you squeak. “I thought you said human males only have one—“
“H-hey, too rough!” you scold him, squirming in a way that has him instinctively licking his sharp teeth. “And yes, human males usually have one penis, but that’s—“
“So are you used to mating with multiple partners, then?” A genuine question, although you feel like he’s teasing you. “My kind don’t like to share. At least, not at the same time.”
“No! We’re not – I mean, some humans like – but I’ve never – ugh!” Your face is beyond burning now. Childe whines when you hide it behind your hands; ever since you explained the concept of blushing he’s been a menace about getting you to do it as much as possible. “Never mind me,” you retort. “If you prefer to have one partner at a time, then why do you have two penises?”
“Hmm. Good question! I’m no expert –” he smirks, “Well, I’m not a theoretical expert. But in my practical experience, I'd it helps us stay connected. It’s harder than you might think when you’re out on the open ocean.” As he talks, he tests your entrances again with his fingers, taking care to be a bit gentler this time. “Maybe next time I’ll show you what I mean.”
[How much of a pervert would you have to be to rent scuba equipment for the sole purpose of getting dicked down by your merman boyfriend?]
You don’t have much time to think about it. With a cheerful “hup!” Childe lifts himself out of the water and heaves his body atop yours. He feels so different from any human you’ve ever been with, but so good at the same time – his cool, flawlessly smooth skin against your flushed chest, the slightly rough texture of his tail brushing the insides of your legs, and of course, the most alien part (or parts) of him, pressing hard against the junction of your thighs.
You know what he wants. You know what you want.
“C’mon girlie, show me your face already. I just have to see how hard you’ll be ‘blushing’ for what’s coming next.”
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killian-whump · 1 year
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I had a dream that Colin was working on a super secret project and only ever posted ONE behind-the-scenes photo of himself from the project - a picture of him just chilling in this ridiculously ornate pool. But then we heard nothing more about the project and he never said what it was.
Then I was watching this just-released Alice in Wonderland themed horror movie and I recognized the pool from Colin’s picture when the main characters went into some underground grotto and I was like “OH MY GOD, IT’S HAPPENING, SOMETHING’S HAPPENING, COLIN’S GONNA BE IN HERE SOMEWHERE!!”
And then this awesome river demon rose up out of the water and I was like, “Colin?!” Like, this dude was 100% badass and evil and clearly the big bad villain of the movie and I was like, “Are you Colin?!” because he didn’t LOOK like Colin, but then he kinda didn’t look like anybody human, cos his costume was totally badass and demonic and stuff.
Then he spoke, and it was this deep rumbly voice, but I could totally hear Colin in there. And I was like, “Colin!! It’s Colin!! OH MY GOD, I LOVE HIM!!” And I was like flailing around and cheering and so happy and the people watching the movie with me were like, “WTF, I don’t think you’re supposed to like this guy... What is wrong with you?” and meanwhile I’m, like, two seconds from starting a fan club for this river demon whose name I don’t even know yet and I’m like - *looks up in confusion, suddenly wearing a ridiculous DisneyBound style fangirl outfit devoted to this character that appeared 3 hot seconds ago on the screen* “Wha...? No, I love him!”
And that’s how I became known as the crazy girl who simps for a demonic river god character that everyone else had unanimously declared the Worst Guy Ever. And everyone else in the dream kept trying to convince me not to like this character and I was just like, “Nah, can’t help it, it’s Colin. I love him.”
“But he’s evil!” “I know! Colin must’ve loved playing him!” 🤗
“But he eats people!” “Yeah, but he’s so good at it!” 🤗
And then at some point we were IN the movie. So...
“But he’s trying to eat you!” “Colin would never hurt anybody for real!” 🤗
Then Megan McCarthy (commonly known as Melissa McCarthy, but apparently also known as Megan McCarthy in my dream world) showed up out of nowhere like, “Look. This is getting really ridiculous now. You’re about to get eaten by the most horrible river demon in the world and you’re going to your death like a schoolgirl on a field trip to a candy factory.”
“Cos it’s Colin!”
“It’s not Colin.”
“I don’t believe you! I know it’s Colin!”
“No, listen,” Megan told me. “I’m the one playing the river demon.”
“Not gonna believe you. I saw the behind-the-scenes photo of Colin on THIS set.”
Megan sighed. “Okay, look, Colin was only here on set because he was bringing me lunch.”
“Why would Colin be bringing you lunch?!”
And she went, “Well, he’s my boyfriend.”
Before I even had a chance to question this, the entire dream STOPPED like one of those record scratch moments and Colin poked his head in and went, “I’m married, Megan McCarthy.” Full name and everything. Serious business.
Megan didn’t miss a beat, though. “You can’t be my boyfriend if you’re married, Colin. That shit’s not cool.”
“I was never your boyfriend,” Colin said, but he was already being drowned out by Megan dramatically breaking up with him in front of everyone because he’s married and she didn’t know... and Colin was just like
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And he finally went, “Are you done?”
And Megan was like, “Yeah. Yeah, I think I’m done now. Sorry, Col.” Then she turned back to me and said, “So that’s it. That’s the big secret. I’m the river demon. It’s not Colin.”
I was all *suspicious Fry gif* at her, but then I finally said, “Well, I don’t really believe you, but... even if you’re telling the truth, the joke’s on you, ‘cos I’m a fan of yours, too.”
And then I got kicked out of my own dream.
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hamsterclaw · 1 year
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Bangtan Christmas Drabble 4
Elf ft Hoseok
The elf from the Christmas display is cheerful and cheeky and universally loved by everyone except you.
Rating: 18+
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: Swearing, Hobi's a sweetie
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You fold the crisp, Christmassy wrapping paper over the toy you’re wrapping up, secure the fold with a strip of pretty tape and add a red bow, tying the edges deftly, snipping the ribbon at a slant for extra prettiness.
You slide the toy into the matching gift bag and hand it to the woman waiting with a smile.
‘Pretty,’ says a voice off to your left.
You don’t need to hear the tell-tale jangle of bells as he moves to know who it is.
Jung Hoseok. He’s an elf.
Well, not a real elf, in fact if he were a mythical creature you’d peg him more as a faun.
Annoying and pointless.
He’s an elf from the Christmas live display in the huge department store you both work for. He also does stints in Santa’s grotto, and stints as a greeter.
You think if you were a shopper and he greeted you with that annoying bright smile you’d turn and walk right out of the store, but it’s not you who makes the decisions around here.
It’s unfortunate, because all the decision makers seem to love him.
Everyone seems to love him.
You would bah humbug yourself out of here if you didn’t need this job.
‘What can I do for you, Hoseok?’ you ask, steeling yourself, plastering a smile that feels more like a grimace onto your face.
‘Want to get hot chocolate on your break today?’ he asks, hopefully.
‘With you? I’d rather eat a pine cone,’ you say, briskly.
Hoseok pouts. ‘When are you going to forgive me?’ he asks.
‘For what?’ you ask, because you want to hear him say it.
His pout deepens, and you tear your eyes away from his heart shaped lips.
When you turn away he says, very softly, ‘For stealing your Christmas display idea last year.’
You round on him. ‘Say that again?’
‘For stealing your Christmas display idea last year!’ he says, almost shouting.
‘Ah so you admit it!’
‘I’m sorry! I needed the prize,’ he says, hands wringing.
You stare at each other.
‘Why would a grown adult need a remote-controlled helicopter?’ you mutter.
‘It wasn’t for me!’ he says, earnestly. ‘It was for my brother.’
You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. ‘You have a brother? Because you really act like you’re an only child.’
‘My mum got remarried last year,’ he tells you. ‘I have a new half step brother. He’s 12, I knew he’d love it.’
‘If you’re making this up –’ you begin, glaring at him.
‘No, look!’
Sensing he has you, Hoseok holds out his phone.
His lock screen is of him and a teenager, arms around each other, eyes crinkling with the width of their smiles.
Your cold cynical heart thaws just slightly at the sight of them.
‘Looks like you’re happy together,’ you say, grudgingly.
You’re still looking at the screen when a notification flashes up. Hoseok’s face ID unlocks the phone and next thing you know, you’re looking at a nude of a woman with a cute pair of tits.
Your eyes fly to Hoseok’s.
He swipes it away, casual. ‘I keep telling her I’m not interested,’ he mutters.
He looks up at you. ‘We still on for that hot chocolate?’
You’re impressed with his audacity.
***
You don’t really expect him to follow through, but he shows up perfectly on time at your allocated break time, all smiles and year-round cheer, bells jingling musically as he holds out his arm to you.
You thread your arm through his warily. ‘It’s just a hot chocolate,’ you say, more to yourself. ‘We’re not really friends.’
Hoseok smiles at you brightly. ‘We’re not friends,’ he agrees. ‘I’d like to date you.’
‘You don’t even know me,’ you splutter.
You try and pull your arm away, but his arm tightens around yours. ‘Too much?’ he asks.
‘Too much,’ you say. ‘I still haven’t forgiven you for stealing my Christmas display idea, even if it was for a good cause.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he says, sincerity in his eyes. ‘I’ll make it up to you.’
‘How?’ you scoff. ‘We’ve already done Christmas displays this year.’
‘I’ll think of something,’ he promises.
You arrive in front of the hot drinks counter in the staff cafeteria. The woman behind the counter greets Hoseok warmly.
‘Hobi! Ready for those hot chocolates?’
‘Can’t wait,’ he says, beaming at her. ‘Liya, this is Y/N. We’ve been looking forward to hot chocolate all day.’
Liya smiles at you. ‘Hoseok stopped by earlier to make sure we were stocked up on marshmallows. He said he had someone to impress.’
You thank her and flick your eyes to Hoseok as you accept the steaming mug, generously topped with tiny pink and white marshmallows and a dollop of whipped cream.
Hoseok asks solicitously, ‘Would you like me to carry it for you?’
‘Aren’t we sitting down here?’ you ask.
‘No, I have a friend on 6th who set something up for us.’
Hoseok and you take the lift up to sixth, furniture and lighting. Hoseok escorts you out of the lift, leading you down to the corner of the store that faces the busy street outside.
He fiddles with his phone and a moment later, the lights above you go out.
You’re looking at him curiously when the lights come on again and instead of the harsh overhead lighting, you’re illuminated by the sparkle of pretty green and blue fairy lights.
‘Come on,’ Hoseok says, gesturing to a loveseat turned so it’s overlooking the street.
You take a seat next to him. The loveseat’s comfortable, soft, and the view, framed by the pretty lighting, is perfect.
‘Sorry,’ Hoseok says. Despite the abbreviated width of the loveseat forcing proximity, he’s keeping a respectful distance between you. ‘We only have 10 minutes before Mingyu has to rearrange the furniture back how it was.’
You’re impressed with the trouble he’s gone to.
‘Ten minutes sounds perfect,’ you reply.
He smiles at you a lot generally, but this time there’s an odd shyness in his expression.
‘Do you like it?’ he asks.
‘I’m impressed,’ you say. ‘Is this how you get girls to send you nudes?’
He laughs. ‘I told you I keep telling her not to.’
He looks at you through his lashes. ‘I don’t know why, every girl I go out with wants more.’
Now you’re laughing too. ‘Wow, you must be really good in bed.’
He says, not missing a beat, ‘want to find out for yourself?’
You roll your eyes.
Hoseok nudges you with his thigh. ‘Go on, finish your drink.’
Hoseok drops your mugs off with Mingyu when you’re done.
In the lift, he turns to you. ‘One last stop.’
He takes you up to the tenth floor, the haberdashery department.
‘What’s up here?’ you ask, curious.
‘Your friend Nara said you like sewing,’ he says.
He waves you to a table covered with gorgeous fabric.
‘I got my friend to lay out some of the leftover off-cut fabric for you,’ he says cheerfully.
You look up at him. The department store sells fabric designed in Europe by the metre, and off-cuts are leftover fabric from the the roll.
‘Hoseok,’ you say. ‘This is too much —‘
He waves a hand. ‘Just choose whatever you want. Maybe you can make a shirt for me.’
You choose three fabrics, and his friend Jane wraps them up for you prettily, just like you’re a regular shopper at the store instead of staff.
You clutch the package to your chest as you take the lift back down.
‘Hoseok, thank you,’ you say, turning to him.
‘Don’t thank me,’ he says. ‘It’s my apology for stealing your idea.’
‘You’re forgiven,’ you tell him.
‘Good,’ he says.
He holds open the lift door for you when you reach the third floor, where you work.
‘Maybe you’ll let me take you on a proper date this weekend?’ he asks, hopefully.
You’re smiling at him so hard you almost forget to answer, but he seems to know what you’re going to say.
‘I’ll pick you up Friday when we get off work,’ he says.
He waves at you as the lift doors close, and then he’s off, in a merry jingle of bells.
©hamsterclaw 2022
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blorbologist · 1 year
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Hello! How do you get over writer's block? i'm writing for a poetry competition and the deadline is at the end of the month. The poem I'm working on now is halfway done but for some reason I'm hitting a wall when it comes to the part I really want to write if that makes sense? I feel like I have no inspiration to finish even though I know how I want it to go, and the worst part of it is that I want to start another project T^T how do I do this??
Hi anon!
It's a really, really tricky question to answer, especially due to the deadline. My usual advice would be related to not rushing it, which is... not great if you do have a timeline to adhere to.
Here's what I've got to offer:
Skip ahead. There's no hard rule that you have to write this bit before the next. Even if some of what is to come relies on it, you can make little notes and go back to edit it later.
Write an outline of the scene. No, really - you might know exactly how it goes, but writing it down both puts something on the blank document and might clarify bits you hadn't realized you were struggling with. Even better, there's often a natural inclination to just... dig a bit deeper, which might get you writing some dialog or paragraphs that occur to you that you don't want to forget. Breaking it down really helps!
Take a break. Yes, there's a deadline. No, stressing yourself silly won't help. If the muse just won't flow, be kind to yourself. If you've been bashing your head into a wall and are getting frustrated, take a break. Get away from a screen, or read a book, or take a walk.
Once that's done, though, if you aren't making headway, start brute forcing it. It's not nearly as gritty as it sounds: you just want to get words on a page, whatever way works best for you. I like to do speedwrites (short, timed writing with a friend where we just get as many words as possible onto a page and edit later), because the friend participating holds me accountable and makes me Competitive! And I'm forced to write without Overthinking, which sometimes takes the scene in a new and interesting direction! You can also set writing goals per day, like NaNoWriMo, or write it like a script with just the bare bones of what you want to happen. A little pressure helps some people stay on track.
Change your perspective. Write in a coffee shop or a quiet corner of the library, or make a nest in your closet. Switch up the environment!
Likewise, get yourself into work mode. For me that means a drink (water or coffee) and I must be wearing pants and socks to convince my brain that this is Not goofing off time.
Find ways to stay motivated. Do you have any friends you can share snippets with? The enthusiasm is a great way to keep muse flowing. Or if one part is giving you trouble, hashing it out with a kind listener is great. Reward yourself for reaching your goals! Snackies!! Reread what you've written before bed - I like to do it to catch typos and marvel at what I half-remember writing.
Break out a dictionary, or an old-ass book. Look for some weird but cool words. I compile ones that inspire me. Recently I've added grotto (from a tumblr post), ream of paper (from a fic) and appetite (from a paper) as far as words that Hit Me with some muse. Maybe you'll use them, or maybe they just give vibes. Collect them like flowers.
Finally... you know yourself best. Be honest about your goals, your comfort zone, what you know will motivate you... and then shove yourself just a bit past that. One of these ideas might be just what you need to get yourself where you want to go, but you'll never get there sticking in the same space that caused writer's block forever. Those tools clearly don't work - try out that jackhammer, even if it seems a little scary. Apparently they're really fun to work with!
I know most of this is focused on longer form writing, but I have limited experience with poetry, woop.
Please let me know if any of this helps, I'm cheering you on anon! <33
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lilas · 6 months
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wip whenever
Tagged by @thevikingwoman and this time I have something you can read. 😂
tagging no one once again because I am Late but I’m back on the writing bandwagon! Small victories 😌
The idea leaves Avi’li’s heart hollow, disconnected. He can’t remember the faces and the cheers that greeted them in Sharlayan, and that’s maybe for the better. What does he have to give as an answer for their happiness except for this numbness that coats him?
His brow furrows. This numbness is worrying and too familiar, harkens back to memories of the Doman and Ala Mighan rebellions, the Dragonsong War…
Haurchefant’s death.
At that time, numbness had sunk its claws so deep into Avi’li’s skin that it was a part of him. How long has it been since it was finally forcibly shaken off him? How long has he been able to feel his heart again?
How long will it be before he can feel it again?
“Those aren’t edible.”
Avi’li blinks, and slowly turns to regard Erenville. “Huh?”
Erenville nearly fades into the gloom of the grotto, the light gone now behind the fake horizon. Only the crystal lantern on his pack lights his jaw in a warm yellow.
“You were staring at that mushroom for a long time,” Erenville gestures with a nod, “I promise no matter how much it looks like candy, it doesn’t taste like it.”
Avi’li scoffs, his nose twisting up in some effort to fight of a grin, “And you know this for fact?”
“Let’s just say even field researchers can make mistakes and leave it at that.”
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