Remind me again when your faves got an entire themed press day on Valentine’s Day dedicated to their fictional same sex soap wedding filled with tacky but incredible heart decorations, food, cake, cocktails named after them and their life, and a game of Mr and Mr????
Emmerdale making Danny and Ryan sit with the media surrounded by the cringiest yet cutest and most bizarre celebrations; having to look at their own faces and watch themselves get married… I just can’t believe this was actually a thing lmao. This team are my absolute heroes. They’ve never been so extra but to have this much fuss and to create such big hype for something that was once shamed upon is amazing. HOW ICONIC, HOW SURREAL, I’M WEIRDLY SUPER PROUD.
For all of the witches who struggle with Sabbats sneaking up on them, here is a guide to help whip up an easy celebration so you never have to miss out on Sabbats again!
A Sabbat is a seasonal festival mostly celebrated by Pagans and Witches. Sabbats are like any other holiday, except these are normally celebrations of the changing of the seasons, or the “turning of the wheel.” Each person will celebrate each Sabbat differently, as each season is completely personal to you.
The First Step
The first step I recommend to planning a Sabbat celebration is to figure out exactly what the Sabbat is to you. Figure out how you feel about the sabbat and what you naturally associate each one with. This can take some time to work through, especially if you are new to sabbats or if you tend to avoid nature at all costs.
What to ask yourself:
- What does this Sabbat mean to you? - What is the Earth doing right now? What does it look like outside your window? - What is in season (this includes foods, herbs, flowers and decor)? - How do you feel this time of year? How does this particular Sabbat make you feel? Is this normal? - What sort of things make you feel “witchy” or connected to this Sabbat? - Why is this day special to you?
Things to Do:
- Perform a ritual. Rituals can be as elaborate or as simple as you want them to be. Sometimes all you have to work with is a tealight candle and a week old pack of cookies.
- Cook. Some of us feel connected to the world around us when there is food involved. After all, it’s not a party unless there is food. Try out a new recipe with in-season foods, or make your favorite comfort food dish.
- Go outside. The easiest way to celebrate the changing of the seasons is to go outside and experience them. Even if it’s a short walk (because not many people want to go for long strolls in the dead of winter), take a moment to step outside and experience nature and observe what it’s currently doing. If you are able, plan a day trip to somewhere special or new to explore.
- Decorate. Nothing gets me in the holiday (or Sabbat) spirit like decorating. As a child decorating for Christmas was the best because that was the only time we put up decorations. Now, as an adult, I use whatever I have handy to decorate for every Sabbat I can to make me feel more festive.
- Offerings. If you work with spirits of deities, you may wish to put together some sort of offering for them when you celebrate. This can be food, special rocks or flowers from outside, or something you’ve made yourself.
- Spells. Sabbats are prime times to do spells for me. The spells I cast are reflections of the coming season and what I want from them.
- Crafts. There are a ton of different little projects for Sabbats floating around on the internet. Get creative and make something! If you are on a budget, make something with what you have, or modify a craft to include what you have. I like to make something new each year for the Sabbats (it’s an easy way to get “decorations” too!)
- Divination. Nothing says celebration like a good old fashion look into the future. Choose any form of divination that you’d like and do a reading for yourself.
- Journaling. Sometimes the easiest way to celebrate and connect is to get into your own head. Let the Earth inspire you. Stare out a window (or sit outside if you can) and just watch what happens around you. Let it inspire you to create. Journal about your own feelings, write a freestyle poem or sketch and paint what you see.
Creating a Ritual
Not all rituals have to be long and elaborate. Some of my favorite rituals are just sitting around in sweatpants with a hot cup of cocoa and my journal, reflecting on the season and my life. Ask yourself these questions to help piece together how a ritual would be best done for you.
- What am I celebrating? How can I celebrate this? - Who am I worshiping? - How much space do I have? - How much time do I have? - Why am I celebrating this Sabbat? - What do I/can I buy for my celebrations?
The important thing for Sabbats isn’t how grand your ritual is, it’s all about gaining something from it, whether that be a nice warm fuzzy feeling or a great insight into your life.
Reflection and Meditation
After each Sabbat day, I find it helpful if I reflect upon what I did that day and how my celebration went. This is when I do most of my journaling, but you don’t have to write anything. You can simply sit and rest and meditate on the day if you wish. Use this time to unwind.
- What did I do today? How do I feel about it? - What ideas do I have for next year? - What did this year’s Sabbat teach me? - What was my favorite part of today’s celebration? - What was my least favorite?
Everyone is born with a soulmark. Usually, it starts out as nothing more than a colorful blob, but as people grew up it would change shape and color until it was actually recognizable.
Bitty’s mark became a concrete symbol when he was 9 years old and he quit his dad’s peewee football team.
After his mama had scooped him off the field and brought him home, she’d sent him to take a bath to get rid of the mud and dirt. That’s when he saw it. Your soulmark usually sat right over your heart, though it could vary, and once he’d gotten out of the tub, Bitty was able to see what his was for the first time.
He’d put on pants and run downstairs yelling for his mom, all the unpleasantness of being tackled during football forgotten. “Mama! Mama!”
Sticking her head out of the kitchen, Suzanne called out, worried she’d missed an injury when she’d checked Dickey over. “What is it, Dickey? Are you still hurtin’, honey? Do you need help?”
“No! I’m fine!” Bitty skidded into the kitchen and pointed at his chest. “But look, mama! It’s ice skates! Can I take lessons? Can I? Can I?”
“Oh, honey. Look at that.” Suzanne grabbed her son for a hug and held him tight. “How ‘bout we bake a special pie to celebrate? And tomorrow I’ll start looking to get you some lessons.”
“Really? Even after?” Bitty bit his lip and hid his face in his mom’s chest. “It’ll be okay?”
“You pay no mind to what happened earlier. Everything is going to be just fine. Your daddy shoulda known better. Now go put a shirt on and get back down here. We’ve got a pie to bake.”
The next day, just as she’d promised, Suzanne sat down with a phone book and started making calls to find her son some ice skating lessons.
Jack had never really given his soulmark much thought. He had gotten used to the image of an ice skate tied with a hockey skate resting over his heart a long time ago, and with his dad being who he was, he had not surprised by it. That of course, all changed when he ended up in the hospital.
When he woke up in a hospital bed with both his parents sleeping in chairs nearby, Jack felt horrible. Since they were both sound asleep, Jack carefully got out of bed and snuck into the bathroom.
He was staring at himself in the mirror and seeing nothing but pale, sallow skin and dark heavy bags under his eyes when he remembered his soulmark. He shifted the hospital gown to look at the mark that had provided him with a lot of fantasies when he was a kid and suddenly felt his heart start to race.
Before he could start to panic further, there was a knock at the door and he heard his father’s voice. “Jack? Are you okay?”
Quickly turning the water on, Jack splashed his face with cold water and opened the door. “I’m okay, papa.”
Jack’s father’s face shifted from concerned to relieved quickly and he pulled him close for a hug. “I’m glad, Jack.” Jack was stiff in his father’s arms before tentatively hugging him back. Bob kissed Jack on the forehead and tried for a smile. “Come on, let’s get you back into bed before you mom gets back.”
Once Jack was back in bed, his dad covered him with the blanket and sat back in his chair. Jack wasn’t sure what to say to his dad, but he wanted to say something. “Papa, I, I’m sorry. I know you wanted-”
Bob reached over for Jack’s hand and hushed him. “Shhh…Jack. It’s okay. We, I mean I, I should have seen how much pressure you were under. I never wanted that for you, Jack. I only want you to be happy and enjoy what you’re doing. If hockey isn’t it, then we can find something else.”
With his free hand, Jack rubbed over his soulmark. “No! I love being on the ice, papa. It’s one of the few places I feel good. I let other things,” Jack paused, trying not to think about Kent, ‘other people get in my head.”
Bob nodded and moved to sit on the edge of Jack’s bed and look him in the eye. “Just so long as you know, that no matter what, I love you and am proud of you.”
Jack could feel the tears at the corners of his eyes and leaned forward to hug his dad. “I know. I don’t always remember, but I do know.”
Bob held onto his son just a little longer before patting him on the back and moving back to his chair. “What do you say we find something stupid on t.v. and wait for your mom to come back with some contraband.”
Handing his dad the remote, Jack smiled. It was shaky and shy, but he wanted to try for his dad. “I’d like that.”
When Jack chose Samwell and joined their hockey team, he finally found a place that feels right. He’s accepted by his teammates and he makes friends, and somehow, even manages to get a best friend.
He tries to be close with his team, but it’s hard because Jack does avoid some things. He’s always quickest in the showers, hurrying to get clean so he can get a shirt on and get back to the Haus. And when soulmates and marks get brought up on the bus, or after kegsters, Jack always manages to slip on a pair of headphones or duck out and go to his room.
That all changes the day he is woken up by Bittle singing in the shower. The moment he whipped open the shower curtain, with the full intention of telling Bittle to keep it down, Jack is stopped by the mark on Bittle’s chest.
Before he can say anything, Bitty is yelling. “I’m not decent!”
Still stunned, all Jack can think to say is, “Seriously? Bittle, we’re on the same team.”
By the time Bittle is telling him not to blaspheme, and Jack still doesn’t know what he is actually blaspheming, he’s left the bathroom to hide in his room. It’s a Sunday, so no one will really be looking for him and Jack can try and figure this all out in peace.
Leaning back against the headboard, Jack tries to remain calm and use the exercises he learned in rehab to slow his breathing. Of course, it’s Bittle. He should have seen that coming when he was told they were going to have an ice skater on the team. And there’s no way Bittle knows. Jack had been able to convince Shitty to let him wear a tank top during Hazeapalooza and maybe if Jack just says nothing, he can stop thinking about it all.
Unfortunately, it turns out ignoring the problem does not make it go away. Especially since Jack cannot seem to stay away from Bittle. There more he gets to know him, the more Jack finds himself actually wanting him. He’s still determined not to bring Bittle down with his issues, but he can’t seem to help but flirt and get closer to him.
When Kent shows up at the Epikegster, Jack is more resolved than ever to keep Bittle away from his mess. Bittle is good and kind and always sees the best in people, and Jack does not want to tarnish that. Bittle deserves someone just as good as he is, not a guy who can barely handle the pressure of playing a sport he loves.
When graduation rolls around, and after Bitty hugs him, Jack can feel his resolve crumbling. It’s his papa’s words that do the trick. He knows he’s right. He can’t afford to miss this chance by never even trying. Bitty deserves to know how Jack feels and hopefully they can figure this all out together.
Jack finds Bitty singing that same song again, but this time while crying and Jack’s heart breaks. “Bittle!”
Bitty stops singing mid-song and looks shocked to see Jack there. “Jack?”
When he starts to ramble, Jack has to smile. “Bitty.” It’s the first time Jack has ever called him ‘Bittle’ out loud, and he likes it. Bitty looks startled by it as well and Jack just has to kiss him. He has to taste those lips and find out if Bitty is as sweet as he smells.
Jack never wants to stop kissing Bitty, but unfortunately, fate has other plans. His phone buzzes with a text from his parents and he knows he needs to leave, but he can’t before telling Bitty one more thing.
Bitty’s eyes are still closed and Jack brushes his lips over his cheek. “Bitty.”
“I have to go, but I need you to know something.”
Bitty has a soft, sappy smile on his face and he finally opens his eyes to look at Jack. “What’s that, Jack?”
“It’s about my mark. I’ve never shown it to anyone, but I need you to know what it is, okay?”
Bitty frowns and it’s obvious he’s worried Jack is going to show them that their marks don’t match. Jack steps back and flips his tie over his shoulder so he can unbutton his shirt.
When Bitty can finally see what the mark is, he gasps. “Jack!”
Jack buttons his shirt back up and kisses Bitty one last time. “I’ve got to go, I’ll text you, okay?”
Bitty just nods, smile back on his face. “I’m looking forward to it, Mr. Zimmermann.”
Yesss!!! Bts won the award at the bbma’s and oml I couldn’t be more happy for them! They deserve this award so much and have been through hell and back to get where they are now. Not only is this amazing for bts but it’s also amazing for kpop in general - kpop is finally getting the recognition that it deserves. Let’s celebrate their win and look forward to the next idols who will attend the bbma’s because this isn’t the end for international success ❤🙏
This tumblr post is hilarious and accurate, and it made me think about what my ideal McGenji fic would contain. Twenty minutes later I had this idea, so here is the McGenji fic I’d write if my fiction writing spoons ever return from the war.
They go on a Blackwatch mission together and kick ass, but then their clothes (Genji’s included because I said so) are ruined for probably the same contrived reasons that women in anime have strategic clothing rips from a weapon passing by them briefly. And this wouldn’t be a problem except they’re technically undercover, and while civilians don’t blink at weird outfits or cybernetics, blood and ripped clothes means violence that they want to stay well away from. So they have to get new clothes. McCree is ready to head to the nearest secondhand store, because lbr people who end up in street gangs in their mid-teens are generally not financially stable people, but former rich playboy Genji is like “oh honey no, let me show you a better way.”
And Genji manages to ferret out a clothes store that serves the very wealthy of the city, because in thrift stores, they’re always looking for the “criminal element”, but the wealthy and famous have any number of sins they want to cover up, so they pay well and the staff of the boutique are always very discreet. And sure enough as soon as Genji starts talking to them, they identify that attitude that people born into privilege often have, and like magic, their old ruined bloody clothes have disappeared and they’re in designer (“only because we don’t have the time to be properly tailored, you understand, but surely you can fit in a few alterations, no, we don’t mind waiting, could one of the staff perhaps go and get us something to eat and a little something for yourself of course”) and they wait out the manhunt for them eating fancy food and drinking expensive coffee in this boutique, because of course the local police wouldn’t dare come interrupt the patrons of this shop, they’re very important people.
And McCree cannot pull off the attitude Genji can, but the staff assume they’re together, that ~poor disabled Genji~ (ugh) can’t date someone ~proper~ so he provides for this handsome young man. And McCree, being a black ops operative, is good at reading the room, and he goes with it because things will go more smoothly this way. And he’s shocked how good he looks in these clothes with just a little tailoring (rich people get literally everything tailored, it’s why celebrities always look like that, not even kidding y'all) and Genji, from the other stool where he’s examining his own outfit, gives him this look. Y'all know what I mean, that classic fanfic “you gon’ get laid” look.
So they keep up this charade until they leave, and Genji drops the facade and has a heart to heart with McCree about how sometimes people like that are so fake and he can’t stand that people won’t acknowledge how fucked up rich people are under it all, everything gets swept under the rug including attempted murder Hanzo. And then he gives McCree another Look and he’s like “at least it gave me a chance to see what your body looks like out of those layers you wear.” AND THEN THEY FUCK.
(look I know what I like and it’s violence, fake relationships, and putting clothes on characters that I desire but can never afford.)
Hey @staff idk how your ads work at all like i know a lot of it is weird jibberish thats probably filled with viruses but I’m getting sick of seeing “you’ll never believe what Fat Celebrity looks like after weight loss! She could be a model!” Id rather you show me stretched pictures of bodybuilders who “destroyed the local gym, and yours could be next” or peter griffin eating hyperrealistic beef jerky
For my lovely @werewolfbuckybarnes who introduced me to ThunderShield and honestly how did I not see how beautiful these two hotties would be together??
I love this so much I feel a little ridiculous, guys.
Steve let his shield drop with a clang, the metal stained and dirty, and collapsed onto the couch next to it with a groan. Why was it always some crazy other-worldly enemy attacking earth? Why couldn’t it be a jewelry store being robbed by an average criminal just once? Super soldier or not, getting thrown into buildings still left a hell of a bruise.
“Are you hurt?” Thor’s deep voice cut into his thoughts and Steve opened his eyes, trying to tamp down the thrill that went through him to see the Demi god still in full armor, hair wild, Mjolnir held loosely in one hand.
“Nothing a good nights sleep won’t fix.” He replied, scooting down the couch so Thor had room to sit.
“Surely our enemies are cursing the name of the mighty Captain America tonight. You fought well.” The big man grunted, and started shedding armor, the heavy pieces clanging off each other as they hit the ground, Mjolnir leaning against the couch looking remarkably unremarkable in the way only magic weapons could.
Clad only in his pants, Thor sat down right next to Steve, their thighs brushing together, and the Captain swallowed a little sigh. “I am glad you aren’t hurt, it would be a shame if you were too sore to enjoy the victory.”
“I suppose I’ll be alright for whatever post-mission drinking fest Stark has planned.” Steve agreed, and checked Thor over quickly, looking for any injuries.
Nope, none on those huge shoulders. His long hair was messy, but there was no blood or scrapes marring that strong jaw line or perfect nose. The golden skin across his chest was clear and smooth, muscles jumping and shifting as Thor settled back into the couch and–
Crap, I’m literally just staring at him. Steve realized, and tore his gaze away before Thor could see him flushing in embarrassment. Pull it together, Steve, come on!! he scolded himself, folding his arms across his chest like it would keep rampant thoughts from escaping.
“Perhaps…” Thor’s voice was thoughtful. “Perhaps we might have our own victory celebration, something smaller.”
“What?” Steve sent him a look, unwilling to get his hopes up, but oh man were his hopes already up. For weeks now, thoughts of the Thunder God had him waking in the middle of the night, twisting in his sheets, taking cold showers that didn’t help at all, and blushing and stammering anytime someone mentioned Thor’s hammer.
“We could retire to my floor.” Thor was saying, and Steve jerked himself back to the moment. “I have some Asgardian mead, and you are the only one who can handle a drink with me. Much more enjoyable than getting drunk by myself.”
“I could handle a drink or two.” Steve nodded quickly, nearly biting his tongue in half when Thor’s hand landed on his knee, squeezing lightly.
“There is something to be said for the rush of battle, isn’t there?” Thor mused, his hand moving in tiny increments up Steve’s leg. “The way your heart pounds, the way the blood thrums through your veins. It’ s difficult to turn off, leaving a man wanting to exchange one battle for another.”
Steve couldn’t answer, far too distracted by the way Thor’s thumb was rubbing in slow circles, moving higher each time.
“Of course, the benefit of surrounding yourself with warriors means we don’t ever have to turn off that side of ourselves do we? The lust for battle translates into a lust for…everything.”
Oh. Oh. Steve thought he could combust from the fire in Thor’s blue eyes. “I would think–” he licked his lips nervously and wanted to cheer when Thor’s gaze dropped to follow the motion. “I would think the other benefit of being around other warriors is that you don’t need to be…gentle? Or–or soft with each other? Not if the battle lust is still flowing through you? Just move it all from one place to… another?”
Thor groaned a curse in a language Steve didn’t recognize, and surged forward to seal their lips together—
—but the elevator door swished open and the rest of the team poured into the common area, chatting and laughing loudly, ready to start some music and order some food and blow off some steam.
Steve sat back against the couch abruptly, picking his shield up and holding it in his lap and Thor laughed quietly, the sound rumbling through Steve’ s body and making him ache.
“First we celebrate with the team.” he said quietly, “Then you and I discover a new way to fight, yes?”
“Fuck yes.” Steve breathed, and Thor’s lips curled in a smile.
Jamie is another proof that white guys can't write any asian women that isn't martial arts knowing/skinny as twig without any muscle or fat/with one colored streak in hair/hot prefect sexualized fantasy.
Okay question. This like the third time I’ve seen the “one colored streak” thing and I’m out of the loop as to where this is coming from? I’m probably exposing myself and just how little attention I pay to Noodle and/or Jamie’s other art but oh well.
And you aren’t the first to tell me that this a trend for Asian characters. It’s unfortunate that that’s how it is and even more unfortunate that other fans are getting SO defensive over it. Like, Jamie doesn’t know you lmao so why all the caping? Plus, whenever anyone puts creative work out, there’s an acknowledgement that people will react to it, and that includes the full spectrum of reactions. Having a negative reaction doesn’t = trying to tell someone what to do with their work, it’s a different perspective which can sometimes be a learning opportunity, which most artists/writers/etc. welcome. To condemn this process is yet another thing about this fandom that completely baffles me. Like it really sounds like some people would rather everything exist in an echo-chamber of praise as if there aren’t valid for and against arguments out there. If Asian fans have been speaking out about this like I’ve been hearing, then idg why they wouldn’t be listened to with at least some modicum of empathy and understanding.