#tag soup

[mmm-bbaq]

i wanted to draw team t.i.e.s. wearing ties and next thing i knew i drew them as that one weezer album cover????

i was originally gonna do proper lineart for it but. lazy. so slightly cleaned sketch it is ^^

[faistoconnors]

ivy - A. Donaldson x Reader

Summary: Illicit affairs lead to uncertain endings

WC: 1k-ish

Warnings: infidelity (everyone is with everyone pretty much don't ask me), drinking (not a lot), secret affair, bastardized polycule, ask to tag

AN: I am having withdrawals really bad and can't tell if this is at all coherent. It hasn't been proofread, it hasn't been edited, and maybe I'll fix that later but for now I don't really feel like it! You guys can have my mess for now. Hope you like!!

How's one to know?

I'd meet you where the spirit meets the bones

In a faith forgotten land

In from the snow

Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow

Tarnished but so grand

The hotel room is always cold. Once, you’d tried another one, but it didn’t feel the same when you didn’t have to cling to his light. The window is slightly broken, glass pushed up out of its frame, cold seeping in around the edges.

And the old widow goes to the stone every day

But I don't, I just sit here and wait

Grieving for the living

The minutes tick by slowly, time seeming to slow as you anticipate him. This, of course, isn’t meant to last. Soon, life will return to how it was before, and you’ll sit quietly, heart mourning someone who hasn’t died, face displaying the placid expression of a good wife.

Oh, goddamn

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Taking mine, but it's been promised to another

Fire and ice. Art always seemed to understand you, understand just what made you hurt and what made you smile. You could understand why he had been ice, with his cold hands matching the chill of the room. But the warmth he made you feel was more befitting of your husband’s title, really. 

Oh, I can't

Stop you putting roots in my dreamland

My house of stone, your ivy grows

And now I'm covered in you

One night, you laid at home, your husband beside you in bed snoring quietly. You’d been jolted awake, not by nightmare or bad dream, but by sheer longing. The dream had been so lifelike, so realistic, that for a moment, you’d thought you were at the Super 8 again. Art had moved so quietly into your life, like ivy creeping up the walls of the house you called home. Soon enough, without even realizing it,he had engulfed the house. He was home. 

I wish to know

The fatal flaw that makes you long to be

Magnificently cursed

It was a mystery why he’d chosen this. Art Donaldson had everything. His wife, his fame, his fortune… then again, it was hardly a mystery at all.

He's in the room

Your opal eyes are all I wish to see

He wants what's only yours

The gala for the Donaldson foundation was lively. Your husband’s arm wrapped around your waist, you moved about the room. People snapped pictures of you and the man, but most of the focus surrounded Art and Tashi, sitting at their table quietly talking under their breath. The man whose hand was rubbing at your back made no effort to hide the way his gaze was fixed on Mrs. Donaldson, and Art made no effort to hide the way he watched you. 

Oh, goddamn

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Taking mine, but it's been promised to another

The hotel in Atlanta was plastered in posters of him, all blond hair and bright smiles. You watched as your husband and Tashi disappeared together out the door. It was only when you felt a set of fingers brush against yours that you turned around, saw the posters come to life. He was staring down at your left hand, at the huge rock weighing it down. 

“Where did they go?” was his first question, voice strained.

“Where didn’t they?” came your hushed voice. 

That was the first night you shared.

Oh, I can't

Stop you putting roots in my dreamland

My house of stone, your ivy grows

And now I'm covered

Clover blooms in the fields

Spring breaks loose, the time is near

What would he do if he found us out?

The door creaks open, breaking you out of your stupor. A flash of a smile, and he’s by your side before you can fully take him in. His hair is more manicured now, face drawn, the thirteen years between when you met and the present day showing up in more ways than one. 

Beneath the excitement, the thrill of it all, is an undercurrent of fear. As the snow outside begins to melt, Art and Patrick will return to tennis together, the unstoppable duo they once were. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll be caught, but your husband was never a stupid man. It’s mutually beneficial for all of you; you and Art will see each other behind your spouse’s backs, they will do the same, and the public will be none the wiser. Still, it has to stay an unspoken agreement. Patrick Zweig was never one to share. 

Crescent moon, coast is clear

Spring breaks loose, but so does fear

He's gonna burn this house to the ground

In the afterglow of it all, when you return home, you don’t think to clear your notifications. You don’t have his number saved, but when Patrick glances at the phone on the nightstand, he sees the words ‘Almost there. Same room, same time?’. Silence falls over the room.

How's one to know?

I'd live and die for moments that we stole

On begged and borrowed time

Two years pass by like a lightning flash. Neither of you try to reach out to each other. There will be no more stolen glances, no more nighttime rendezvous. Just memories, and the sensation in your heart that feels quite like a missing tooth. You’ll poke your tongue in the gap, and it will feel all wrong, space that shouldn’t be there at all. 

So tell me to run

Or dare to sit and watch what we'll become

And drink my husband's wine

When Tashi sends you and Patrick an invitation to dinner to ‘discuss plans for the future of the brand’, you’re hesitant, though you don’t show it. Patrick brings a bottle of his best wine, and you hover near the car for a beat too long, staring at the man you love.

Their garden is expansive, tall hedges and massive rosebushes winding a path down to a small, shallow pond. You reminisce on the time Patrick taught you to skip stones as you toss them across the still water, but the silence is quickly shattered by the shadow falling across the lawn beside you. 

“We could just leave,” comes his quiet voice in your ear. He’s tipsy, not drunk, but Art could never handle his liquor, or keep his mouth shut after a few drinks. “Just- just run, take a plane somewhere else. Far away.”

“It would be too messy, Art,” you whisper back. “The press, they’d go insane.”

“It’d die down soon enough,” he protests, gives a hiccup as you look over at him. 

“Artie baby. I’m sorry.”

Now I'm covered in you

In you

[forgotn1]

Tonight, I played a little game I just made up called "Can I Finish Work Before the Edibles Kick In!"

The answer is yes!

Barely.

[butterflykind]

memory dump

[ineffablefool]

I get "Pet Name" by They Might Be Giants stuck in my head a lot when thinking about the Ineffable Husbands, even though the lyrics are not at all correct (they are not soft and loving, or as a second choice soft and yearning, and are therefore Wrong). But now I guess I've seen enough theladyzephyr posts about the importance of pet names that I'm writing a fic that's gonna use part of one lyric as a title. Because why not, apparently.

I'm writing it on my phone, too, because I'm still carting around the Lovecraft/mermaid AU, and it's up to 18 pages to stuff in my back pocket on the way to and from work. So, y'know. Tapping Until I Die.

(AU is about to go all to hell for the characters because whooops Adam just did something a normal non-world-ending human should not be able to do)

[callmezeta]

asexual attorney: phoenix wright

asexual attorney investigations: miles edgeworth

[harvestingnature]

How to Eat Tag Soup

Did you not notch a tag this season? Check out this essay on the topic by contributor Cayla Bendel in her essay, "How to Eat Tag Soup."

Our North Dakota turkey season has come and gone and I’m left feeling frustrated and ashamed that I was unsuccessful in filling either of my tags. Wild turkey is undeniably my favorite wild game meat, coupled with close encounter gobbles and yet another reason to spend time in western North Dakota, in just three short years turkey hunting rapidly gained my admiration…or maybe more aptly,…

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[websitedesigningplus]

What does the element do in an HTML document?

What does the element do in an HTML document?

By Jennifer Kyrnin

What Is Pre-Formatted Text?

When you add text to the HTML code for a Web page, say in a paragraph element, you have little to no control over where those lines of text will break or the spacing that will be used. This is because the web browser will flow the text as needed based on the area that contains it. This includes responsive websiteswhich will have a very fluid layout…

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